


Fairy Tail LGBTQA Month

by Eryiss



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Angst, Birthdays, Canon Compliant, Comfort, Declarations Of Love, Depression, Drabbles, Fluff, Healthy Relationships, Injury, LGBTQA Month, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Modern AU, Moving In Together, One Shot, Overworking, Panic Attacks, Power Dynamics, Sickness, Suggestive Flirting, Suggestive Themes, Therapy, Thirsting, adult relationships, mentions of Arranged Marriage, soft moments, supportive friends, victorian au, writing event
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 34,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24521500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eryiss/pseuds/Eryiss
Summary: These are my admissions for the Fairy Tail LGBTQA+ month, and will contain multiple drabbles and one shots for the ships listed in the tags. It'll be updated every five days and hopefullt they'll end up with 30 different fics. Hope you enjoy them.
Relationships: Freed Justine/Gajeel Redfox, Laxus Dreyar/Freed Justine
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40
Collections: I Take Pride in What I Am 2020





	1. Day One - Love [Fraxus]

**Author's Note:**

> These will be my admissions for the Fairy Tail pride month admissions. They’re cross posted on my tumblr and fan fiction account. Individual triggers will but put in the notes of each Drabble; if you think I should mention something I haven’t then please say.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for any comments and kudos you leave. They mean so much. And I've got a [Tumblr.](https://eryiss.tumblr.com/)  
> Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laxus has always known his own emotions, more than people give him credit for. And in Magnolia’s marketplace with his boyfriends, he feels a new emotion. One he rather likes.

_**Day One – Love (Of A Stubborn Thief)** _

Despite what many people thought, Laxus had always had a good handle on his emotions.

He always knew what he felt, had always been good at realising what his feelings were and what they meant, and he had enough emotional intelligence to understand other people's feelings as well. Thanks to his father's influence, there had been a time where he would shut off his emotions, but even then he had known what he was feeling. Even at his worse, he understood people and he understood himself.

It was because of this emotional intelligence that he wasn't shocked when he realised he was in love with Freed.

They'd been dating for a few months by then, and it had been incredible. Having this extra layer of intimacy with the other man made him feel comfortable, happy, and warmer. It was as if every second was just a little bit better than it could have been with Freed being only a friend. A small but constant improvement, and one Laxus had no intention of giving up.

It wasn't a particularly big moment that lead him to understand what he felt for Freed. It was in the middle of august, and the two of them were shopping in Magnolia's marketplace for everything they would need for the upcoming week. Laxus had been tasked at getting meat from the butcher's cart, while Freed made his way through the produce stands. Shopping together was something they had started to do three weeks prior, and although Laxus hadn't admitted it, he was rather fond of it now. Before, it had been a chore, but it was somehow pleasant when Freed was with it.

Laxus had never guessed he would enjoy the domestic side of a relationship this much.

After getting all the meat they needed – which was a lot, given they were intending to have a barbeque in the upcoming days – he began to walk towards the fruit and vegetable sections of the market. When he got in earshot of Freed, a grip split on his face.

"You and I both know that you're overcharging. I am not going to pay double the worth for a punnet of strawberries," Freed had snapped, voice a little harsh.

"Then you ain't shopping here," The vender said, and even with the distance between them Laxus could see Freed's jaw clench a little.

Laxus decided to stay back. This would be fun to watch.

The following few minutes were quite entertaining for Laxus. Freed, as he often did when he saw something he identified as an injustice, decided to use every tool available to make his point. One moment he had worked out the exact price of an individual strawberry – which was admittedly quite high – and was loudly making sure the people around them knew it. The next moment, he was explain the many health code rules that the vendor was breaking, and threatening him with an impromptu visit from the governing authorities so that they could see these violations.

After glancing at the vendor, who had turned from a confident extortionist to a bumbling victim of Freed's calm but effective threats, Laxus decided to approach. If left too long, Freed might make it known he had a weapon attached to his hip. That might be taking it a little too far.

Although, it would be funny.

As he got closer to his boyfriend, Laxus thought back to when he first met Freed. He had expected the other man to be a reserved and calm figure, lacking the eccentricities that made up Fairy Tail's members. Makarov had once confessed that he thought Freed would be a calming influence on Laxus, as he was one of the more mature members of the guild. Looking at him threaten a man's livelihood for a discount on some fruit, it was hard to believe that was the case.

"Hey," Laxus greeted, standing beside Freed. "Everything alright?"

"I'm simply refusing to be a victim to a scam," Freed explained, and Laxus fought off a grin.

"As I said before," The vendor continued, though his tone was unsure now. "I am not going to lower my prices because someone in threatening me."

"They are pretty expensive though," Laxus said smoothly, before Freed could cut in. "Maybe you could knock twenty percent off, get us out of your hair. I think we both know that this asshole ain't gonna give in."

The vendor took a moment to think, cussed under his breath, before offering a lower price. Laxus brought his wallet out and paid for the food before Freed could barter it down lower – there weren't many fruit vendors in the market, they couldn't afford to be backlisted by the best one – and started to walk away. Freed joined him a moment later, walking beside him as they began to left the market.

Freed was quiet, and Laxus assumed it was out of annoyance that he hadn't managed to get a bigger discount. But when he looked to his side, he saw that Freed was eating what appeared to be a peach, and Laxus frowned. That hadn't been part of what they intended to buy.

"Where did you get that, Freed?" Laxus asked with an amused expression on his face.

"The fruit stall, of course," Freed said, and Laxus let out a single laugh.

"Did you pay for it?"

"It's entirely dependent on what you consider paying to mean," Freed shrugged. "If you mean I paid the amount he wanted, then no. If you mean I covered the cost of overcharging by getting what my money was worth, then I did pay for them."

"So you stole it?" Laxus laughed, before furrowing his brows. "Wait, them? How much did you steal?"

Freed reached into his pocked and pulled out another peach, offering it to Laxus. The blonde looked at it for a moment, shaking his head in a mixture of both amusement and disbelief. His boyfriend – the man many people claimed was a voice of reason inf Fairy Tail – had actually stolen some fruit because he believed that he was being overcharged. He seemed completely unrepentant about it, and Laxus knew that if he objected Freed would stubbornly defend himself to an inch of his breath.

And it was then, when he took the stolen peach for himself, he realised he was in love with him.

The moment he realised it, everything seemed to make sense. Because of course he loved this ridiculous, stubborn, incredible idiot. Who else could he love? Who else could make him feel as he did? Who else was so perfect for Laxus?

It was a warm feeling, a feeling of solidity and comfort that Laxus hadn't often felt in his life. He found out he liked it. And as he looked down at Freed again, who had continued to eat his peach without so much as batting an eyelid as to where it came, Laxus found himself more contented than he ever thought he could.

"Freed," Laxus began, insides bubbling.

"Yes," Freed said patiently.

"I'm in love with you."

He kissed his boyfriend before he could say anything in response. Delightfully, it tasted like peach.


	2. Day Two - Gift [Fraxus]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being mages, sometimes Freed and Laxus have to spend large amounts of time away from each other. But even when Laxus is called away on Freed’s birthday, he makes sure his love is known.

_**Day Two – Gift (From Afar)** _

"Hey Freed, wait up."

Freed turned around at the shout from behind him, stopping. It was his birthday, and he was retuning home from the customary celebrating in the guildhall. His parties were always a smaller affair than those of the louder members of the guild, something he had requested. Still, it had been a merry affair, but as the night had worn thin, Freed found himself fighting a small amount of melancholy as he sat around his friends.

It came form the fact that, while all his friends were there, his husband was not.

Laxus had taken an S-Class job nearly a month prior, being the only available member of Fairy Tail with the ranking to attempt it. He had known it was going to be a long job and that he would possibly miss Freed's birthday, and the rune mage hadn't minded. Missing out on things was an occupational hazard in their job.

Still, now the day had come, Freed couldn't deny he was missing him. They didn't have any particular traditions when it came to breakfast, other than being awoken with a fresh mug of coffee, so it wasn't as if he was missing anything in particular. It would have just been nice to have Laxus with him.

"Damn, you're a pretty fast walker," Natsu panted as he approached Freed.

The rune mage looked at the younger man with a small quirk in his eyebrow. They weren't the closest of friends, but they got along well enough given their contrasting personalities. He waited patiently for the other man to catch his breath – maybe he was a faster walker than he realised – and absently wondered what Natsu could have wanted. He'd congratulated him, given him a gift, and demanded a fight throughout the evening. There wasn't much else Natsu normally did on a birthday.

"I have this for ya," He eventually said, raising a hand.

In his hand was a package wrapped in brown paper and tied up with string. It was a simple looking thing, and Freed took it with a small amount of hesitance. Natsu's gift to him had been two bottles of alcohol; one a refined scotch, the other a cheap brand of tequila that boasted being the closest thing to breathing fire a man could experience. Lucy had later confessed that she tried to convince him to get the scotch rather than the tequila, and this had been a compromise.

But, given the fact the man had gotten him something already, it seemed unlikely that there was a third part to his gift. He looked down at it, then to the man, with a small expression of his confusion. Natsu grinned.

"It's from Laxus," He explained. "We had a mission close to the town he's helping and met up with him. Told me to give you it."

Freed looked down to the wrapped package with a small smile. It was of course nothing compared to having the actual man here, but it made him feel rather loved anyway. A lot of people assumed that Freed would be the more romantic of the two, but that wasn't exactly true. They both had their moments, both were thoughtful and kind to each other, and this was an example of Laxus' more romantic inclination.

"Sorry I didn't give it to ya in the guildhall," Natsu continued. "Didn't know if he wanted it to be private or not, so I waited. I should get back, so see ya," He started to jog back, waving towards Freed. "And I want that fight!"

Freed smiled a little as the younger man ran off, looking down at the gift in his hands. He continued to walk towards his house, absently moving the package from hand to hand as he did. It wasn't a long walk, so he decided to wait.

When he got home, he walked to his living room and settled in his large armchair. A pile of his presents had formed from when he had teleported them from the guildhall, and he decided he would deal with them in the morning. He ran his fingers down the brown paper of the gift with a soft smile on his face. He used his nail to cut it open revealing a small note above the gift written in Laxus' familiar handwriting.

_'Freed. Sorry I'm not gonna be there for your birthday. I know you said you don't mind, but it's still kinda shit. I'll make it up to you when I get back, which shouldn't be too long I don't think. I hope this make you smile. Love, Laxus.'_

Freed smiled, moving to place the note on the side table. When he did, he noticed writing on the back of the paper.

_'Salamander. I swear to god if you opened this instead of giving it to Freed I'm gonna fry your balls off when I get back. Evergreen and Bickslow know I've got him something, so I'll know if he doesn't get it.'_

With a laugh, Freed placed the note on the side and looked at the gift itself. It was a leather-bound book, and when Freed saw the title, he smiled. It was a book containing multiple short stories aimed at children, the same book that he had read as a child. This was a first edition of the book, and it seemed to be in immaculate condition. He smiled softly as he opened the first page and looked down at the illustration.

Freed realised, as he read, that Laxus' job had taken him through a far-off town that boasted a well-stocked vintage book store. He must have brought the book before he arrived at the job and kept it to give to Freed when possible. The idea of it made him smile, as did the knowledge that he had only mentioned the book to Laxus once, and he had remembered.

He smiled as he turned a page; Laxus really was a romantic at heart.


	3. Day Three - Brave [Fraxus]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laxus had always known that Freed was brave. But seeing him reuninting with the family that caused him so much pain, with his head held high, is the bravest thing he has ever done.

_**Day Three – Brave (In Every Way)** _

Laxus had always known that Freed was brave.

There was never any doubt in his courage. He had stood against powerful mages and fought dangerous beasts hundreds of time and had never shown any signs of backing down. He had pushed himself to his limits to help others, had stood up against injustices and cruelty, and had never cowered when challenged on his ideals. He was one of the bravest men that Laxus had ever met, and that was something Laxus would never change his mind on.

Today, he was proving it. Because fighting mages, stopping monsters and ending injustices were something mages had to do. True bravery could be seen today, as both Laxus and Freed walked into the large foyer of Freed's childhood home.

Laxus would say it was more of a mansion than anything else. But saying that wouldn't be appropriate.

Freed's relationship with his family had always been tense. Not as shattered as many Fairy Tail members, but there was always an underlying animosity between them. Freed hadn't been the perfect, obedient son that they had wanted, and from what Freed had told Laxus, they had resented him for that. He was his own man, had made his own decision, and those decisions had been at odds with what they wanted for him.

Apparently him joining Fairy Tail had been the last straw for them. His father had threatened to cut him off, remove him from their will, and essentially disown him. Freed had left the house the moment he could, and hadn't returned since.

Until now.

After the incident at the S-Class trials, it had been assumed that many members of Fairy Tail had died, and Freed was included. So when they returned after seven years alive, people had been shocked, and it had been a big part of the news. Apparently Freed's parents had seen this and, now that their supposedly dead son was alive again, they reached out to him. According to their letter, the seven years thinking he had died had shown them what it truly meant to have him out of their lives, and they had regretted their behaviour.

Laxus wasn't going to say anything, but he had heard Freed's soft sobs as he read the letter for the first time. Clearly he had been missing his parents more than he thought.

Today was the first time they would see each other, and Freed had admitted to being scared. He had insisted that Laxus come with him, both for support and to show his parents the man he was to be married to. If they wanted to accept who he was, they needed to accept Laxus as their future son-in-law.

"I'm so glad you're okay," Freed's mother whispered.

She had been the one to open the door, and the moment she saw him her face melted into emotions and she pulled him into a hug. Laxus had stood by a little awkwardly, allowing the two to have their moment. Although Freed didn't cry like his mother was, the strength in which she hugged her told Laxus how much It meant to see her again. It was nice to watch.

"I am too," Freed said softly. "You look well."

"So do you," She smiled. "You must still be twenty-one, mustn't you?"

"I am," Freed said with a small laugh, though a small frown followed. "Is father not coming?"

"He's coming," She assured him. "He's not as mobile as he was before, I'm afraid. But still pig-headed enough to refuse my help."

Freed nodded, and his shoulders hunched slightly. Neither his mother nor father were innocent in Freed being driven out of his home, but his father was the worse. He was loud and argumentative with his disproval, if Freed's stories were accurate, and it had been the constant arguments and fights between them that had been the final straw for Freed. It was clear that seeing his father would likely not go as well as seeing his mother.

And yet Freed stood firm, and Laxus was again reminded of just how brave his fiancé was.

As Freed and his mother spoke, Laxus allowed his eyes to stray around the room. There was a large painting above the staircase, seemingly of a pre-teen Freed with his mother and father. The father was a stern looking man, with a strong jaw, authoritative expression and pushed back shoulders. He looked like a high ranking soldier, actually.

He pulled his eyes away from the paining when the doors to the side of the stairs opened, revealing the same man from the painting. He was now hunched over, leaning heavily on a walking stick, covered in wrinkles. He looked old.

"Freed," He said, voice a little croaky yet still firm and controlled. "You came."

"I did. Hello father," Freed replied, voice tighter now.

"Who is this?" He asked, looking to Laxus.

"This is Laxus Dreyar. His grandfather is the guild master of Fairy Tail," Freed explained. "He's also going to be my husband."

It was perhaps the bravest thing he had ever said.

Apparently neither Freed's mother nor father had been told of this, as they both looked to Laxus in shock. Laxus didn't look towards Freed's mother, and instead kept eye contact with his father. If Laxus had judged them both correctly then the father would be the one to have an issue with him, not the mother. He looked at the older man without showing a hint of intimidation, and the man looked right back at him for a few moments.

"You do good by my son, and we won't have a problem," He eventually said, huffing.

"Of course," Laxus nodded.

"Good," The old man nodded, before turning to his wife. "We'll be eating soon, I assume."

As the older couple walked off, Freed's mother saying they would be waiting in the dining room and dinner would be served in twenty minutes, Laxus stood beside his fiancé and looked down to him with a gentle expression. Freed seemed to take a few moments recover; he had apparently expected something worse as well.

"You okay?" Laxus murmured to him.

"I think so," Freed said with a nod, looking up to Laxus with a smile. "Having them know I like men is rather a large weight off my shoulders."

"I bet it is," Laxus said, kissing the top of his head. "You ready to catch up with them?"

"I think so, yes" Freed nodded.

As they walked, Laxus was left with no doubt that Freed was the bravest man he knew.


	4. Day Four - Tease [Fraxus]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They should have expected it. Given how much they teased Evergreen when she started dating, it shouldn’t have been a shock when Bickslow did the same to them. It was still annoying though.

_**Day Four – Tease (At Your Own Risk)** _

"Well, isn't this cute."

Bickslow had his arms crossed over his chest, the biggest shit-eating grin stretched over his features. Freed's eyes fluttered open as he was awoken, looking towards the man responsible through a hazy gaze. The cocky attitude radiating from the man was clear even without being fully able to see him, and his tone was annoying Freed already. His tired glare didn't dissuade Bickslow from his amused taunting.

He, Bickslow and Laxus had taken a mission together and had ended up sleeping in the woods. It was originally intended to be a Raijinshuu only mission but Evergreen had been called out at the last second, and Laxus had taken her. Bickslow had been more than happy to hear this, and now that the mission had begun Freed understood why.

The idiot had decided he would spend the entire mission teasing the new couple as much as possible.

Many little comments had been made about him third-wheeling them by coming along with them, and about how sorry he was that he had gotten in the way of their romantic time away. When fighting a pack of creatures they had been forced to split up, and Bickslow joked that if they wanted time alone then they could have just asked. And the moment he realised they were sharing a tent he had all but imploded with laughter at his own jokes about what they would be doing inside of it.

It was starting to grate on Freed's nerves, just slightly.

Right now, the subject of his teasing was the fact Laxus was sleeping, head resting on Freed's chest, arms wrapped tightly around him in an almost possessive manner. Freed probably had his nose nuzzled into his boyfriend's hair before he had woken up. Bickslow clearly had enjoyed seeing the two of them cuddled together.

"The two strongest, most badass men in the guild," Bickslow continued. "All snuggled up like idiots in love. It's enough to make your heart melt."

"You know I have a sword, Bickslow," Freed croaked a little as he spoke. "And you also know I enjoy using it."

"Whatever you to do in bed – or in the tent – ain't any business of mine," Bickslow grinned even wider, and Freed's glare got even more intense. It didn't stop Bickslow even slightly. "I always knew Laxus was this cuddly, didn't think you were though. Honestly wish I could take a picture of this, because it's too damn cute."

Freed sighed. He should have expected this when he and Laxus revealed their relationship to their teammates. They were both happy for them, and didn't bat an eyelid when Laxus essentially came out to them, and Freed was grateful of that. For a few days it had been nice, they had been given space and respect. It was now clear that was some sort of amnesty period, because their relationship was now as much a target for teasing as everyone else's. Freed would be better equipped to deal with it if he hadnt just been woken up.

"Did you honestly open our tent just to bother us?" Freed asked, yawning.

"Nah, I was gonna make some breakfast and see if you wanted anything. This is fun though," Bickslow cackled. "So, did you have a nice romantic evening kissing under the stars after I fell asleep."

"Leave him alone, Bix," Laxus groaned, waking up and removing his face from Freed's chest.

"Why?" Bickslow laughed. "This is fun."

"Because eventually he'll get pissed off at ya and try and kill ya. And that means he wont be here and he's really fuckin' warm and I don't wanna lose that until I'm really awake," Laxus explained, pulling Freed closer. Bickslow actually cooed at the action.

"Fine," The blue haired man said finally. "Bacons nearly ready. Be out here if you want any," He then grinned again. "And if you want some privacy, leave a sock on the tent's zipper and I'll get the message."

He cackled as he walked away, and Freed glared at his retreating figure as he turned to his boyfriend. Laxus was smiling a little in his tiredness, clearly amused by the situation; he was always more of a morning person than Freed was. The blonde pulled him closer, pressed a lip to Freed's collar bone, and curled up closer to him. Freed found himself placated slightly by the action and closed his eyes.

"How long do you think it'll take before he stops?" He asked, tiredly.

"None of us have given Ever a break since she got with Elfman," Laxus shrugged. "Just try not to let him get under your skin. You know this is his way of supporting us."

"I know," Freed admitted. He would be much more offended if Bickslow wasn't acting like this.

"And if he really does start pissing you off, we can just keep doing this. It's pretty relaxing if you ask me," Laxus mumbled, nuzzling his nose against Freed's chest. The rune mage smiled a little at that, and ran a hand through his boyfriend's hair.

"I suppose," Freed agreed, before laughing. "Although I do often enjoy getting revenge rather than calming down."

"You can do that too, later," Laxus grinned. "And hey, you're the team's leader right, meaning he technically has to do whatever you say during a mission. So the next time he really annoys you, make him do some weird shit to distract him."

Freed grinned as he looked down at his boyfriend. "I rather like seeing your devious side."

"Couse you do. You're a freak," Laxus taunted, smiling into Freed's torso. "But do it later, because right now I wanna fall asleep again and wait for the idiot to cook us our breakfast."

Freed chuckled at that, leaning down and pressing his lips to the top of Laxus' head. He curled down a little so he was lysing again, wrapped an arm around Laxus' waist, closed his eyes, and plotted his revenge.


	5. Day Five - Quirks [Fraxus]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freed knew how to read Laxus well. He knew what to look for; the little quirks that portrayed his feelings. So he knew when his husband was uncomfortable, and when he needed to leave a situation.

_**Day Five – Quirks (And Their Meanings)** _

Freed considered himself an expert on many things.

There were a wide range of subjects that Freed was knowledgeable in. There was the obvious, such as his magic and the languages associated with it. There was the necessary, such as how to survive in many situations that the normal person wouldn't find themselves in. And there was the obscure and pointless, such as the process in which leather was made and applied to the bindings of old books. Freed's mind was a home of knowledge both useful and not.

One thing he was particularly knowledgeable about was his husband. Many people assumed Laxus was unreadable and stoic – which was a fair assumption when compared to the loud and expressive people of Fairy Tail – but Freed knew better. You could often tell what Laxus was thinking, you just needed to know what to look for. This was something Freed excelled at.

Laxus showed many little quirks that betrayed his emotions. Some were obvious, like when he grinded his teeth together when annoyed, or how he swayed a little as he was on the cusp of getting drunk. Others were more specific, like how his index finger twitched when he wasn't paying attention and instead was thinking about a song stuck in his head. Freed had realised that particular one when they were getting chastised by Makarov for being destructive during a mission, and Laxus' finger tapped against the arm of a chair in time with a song they both liked.

The point was, Freed could read Laxus well. And right now, he was uncomfortable.

Freed had of course expected this reaction, when three weeks ago Guild master Bob had approached the Raijinshuu and requested they become part of the guild after Fairy Tail's closure. They wanted powerful mages to do some of the more intense missions, and that suited The Raijinshuu well. But, as was Blue Pegasus' gimmick, they needed to occasionally flirt with customers.

Each member of the team had different reactions. Bickslow and Evergreen took to it well enough; Bickslow was sociable and friendly already, and Evergreen found she enjoyed men fawning over her. Freed approached it pragmatically, it was a part of the job and he did it as well as he could. Laxus didn't.

He tried at the start, but he wasn't good with people. Either intentionally or not, he had started to be more standoffish and almost rude to those interested in him. It didn't seem to deter them, instead attracting an even more intense crowd.

Which was why he was so uncomfortable.

Freed had just finished speaking to a man who wished to garner his attention – nice enough, but Freed was happily married – and his gaze fell to the blonde. A group of women sat at his table, clearly not understanding that Laxus' uncomfortable and short-tempered attitude wasn't an act. But being an expert in reading his husband, Freed knew what to look for.

His shoulders were hunched, an attempt to make himself smaller. A trial for someone of his size.

His pupils were dilated, the girls surrounding him were annoying him them.

His sentences were short and filled with contractions. He was trying to force an end to the conversation.

There were other things, but Freed had seen enough. His time entertaining had ended anyway, and it was clear that Laxus needed a break. He stood up from where he had been entertaining men and walked towards the table Laxus was hunching over.

"Excuse me," He said, interrupting the almost single-sided conversation. "I'm incredibly sorry to interrupt, but Mr Dreyar is needed outside for a short while," Some of the women went to protest. "I understand, but I've spoken to Hibiki and he's rather excited about stealing you away from Laxus, and I'm sure you wouldn't want to keep him waiting."

The clear lie worked. Freed almost shook his head at how gullible they were.

Once the gathered women spread and went towards Hibiki – who barely managed to hide his shock and looked to Freed with a glare a moment later – Freed nodded for Laxus to follow him. It was part of their job to always seem willing to attend to the guests unless absolutely needed, and therefore Freed had to keep up the lie that Laxus was required in the back. He led him to the alley outside, both for privacy as well as the fact Laxus was occasionally called there to help move beer barrels when the guild was understaffed.

"You looked like you needed a break," Freed commented, leaning on a wall. "You okay?"

Freed watched as Laxus deflated slightly. His tense posture lessened, the tightness in his jaw released, and he allowed a trapped breath to leave his mouth. The quietness of the alleyway and the company of his husband clearly had an affect on Laxus, and Freed was glad to see it.

"They just get a bit intense," Laxus sighed. "And they're all fuckin' loud all the time. They screech."

"I've heard," Freed laughed a little. "I can't imagine it's pleasant when it's right in your ear."

"Honestly, I think that fucking laugh is gonna haunt me in my nightmares," Laxus groaned, but he was grinning a little now. "Should have done what you did and asked just to see guys, least they don't shatter your ears every time you say anything."

"No, I suppose they don't," Freed patted his husband's arm softly.

Laxus' deflation wasn't just because he was glad to get out of the main hall, it was also because he was slightly defeated. His identity had always been interlinked with Fairy Tail in one way or another, and Freed couldn't understand exactly what it felt like for him to lose that and have to join another guild. It must be hard, and all Freed could do was try and help him through it in any way he could. Knowing this, Freed reached into his coat's breast pocket and pulled out a piece of paper which he handed to Laxus.

"If it's any help, I stole this," Freed said, and Laxus looked down at it. The paper was a job notice, requesting the arrival of mages in a village many miles away. A simple enough problem, but what had attracted Freed was the estimated time it would take to complete.

"Says it'll take three weeks," Laxus voiced, clearly having noticed the same thing.

"Exactly. It won't take us that long; a few days at the most," Freed explained. "But that'll give us two and a half weeks where we can claim we're working, when we're actually taking a break from…" He looked towards the guildhall. "Entertaining. "

Laxus grinned, tipped Freed's chin up slightly and brought their lips together. The kiss they shared was desperate and showed just how much Laxus had needed this break. Freed felt a little guilty that he hadn't noticed this need sooner. Until Fairy Tail opened its doors again, he would have to make an effort to make Laxus as comfortable in Blue Pegasus as possible.

After all, what use was it knowing all of Laxus' quirks if he couldn't use them to make his husband happy.


	6. Day Six - Adventure [Gajeed]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Gajeel gets injured badly on a mission, he finds himself bored and alone at the guildhall. And weirdly, the salvation of his sanity is found by Freed and his improvised stories.

**Day Six – Adventure (Through Improvisation)**

"Hey, erm, I had fun last night. D'you think we could do it again?"

Freed looked up from his beer at the rough, mumbled statement aimed at him. Standing awkwardly beside him was Gajeel Redfox, who was refusing to maintain eye contact with the rune mage. Freed wanted to chuckle at the clear discomfort that Gajeel was showing, but decided against it. He didn't want to make the man feel any more uncomfortable than he already was.

"I'd like that," Freed smiled. "Take a seat."

Although he was tempted to, Freed didn't help Gajeel. The man was injured heavily after a mission went wrong, leaving him with a broken leg, sprained shoulder, bruised ribs and many other injuries. He half the mobility he usually had, relied on crutches, and was covered by bandages in various places. Freed didn't know the man tremendously well, but knew that he was prideful and wouldn't be best pleased if he was offered help in getting into a barstool. It was a little painful to watch, however.

Eventually he settled, and Mirajane brought him a drink over before leaving them alone. Freed, having expected that Gajeel might want to continue what they had done the night prior, pulled out a pen and a small notebook.

"Would you like to continue where we started?" Freed asked. "Or begin again."

"Continue I guess," Gajeel mumbled under his breath.

The two had been playing a game, of sorts. Gajeel's injuries meant he hadn't been able to do any missions for two weeks, and it would be a while longer before Makarov would even consider letting him start again. The dragon slayer had gotten drunk and confessed how he needed to do something, go on an adventure of some kind. He needed something to keep his mind active; of course he hadn't said it quite as eloquently, but the meaning was the same.

That was where Freed had interrupted, saying that Gajeel should try reading. Gajeel had clearly seen this as a challenge of some kind, as he retorted by saying he wanted something to give him a challenge, not just to read some 'predictable fancy bullshit.'

So, Freed suggested they improve a story between the two of them.

The idea came from the chose your own adventure stories that Freed had read as a child, wherein you chose pathways of a book to follow and dealt with the consequences. They were fairly linear and aimed at children, and Freed wouldn't have been surprised if Gajeel threw his beer over him if Freed suggested a book for kids. But improvising a narrative, directing Gajeel through a story and allowing him to make whatever decision he wanted seemed like a good enough way to spend the evening. He had nothing else to do.

And, if he was being honest, he was interested in Gajeel. The man was a powerful mage, a little rough around the edges, but good-hearted. He maintained some kind of presence when he entered a room; he wouldn't adapt to a situation; the situation would adapt to him. Freed wondered what that would be like to experience first-hand.

Thus, a game began. Freed made a story and Gajeel played as the protagonist.

Freed had expected it to be a one time thing, where Gajeel's drunkenness had allowed him to do something his sober mind wouldn't. But Freed too had enjoyed himself; improving a story was fun, and Gajeel was good company. And if Gajeel wanted to continue playing – even if he was incredibly awkward about asking – then Freed would gladly do so. He... perhaps had planned out a few things that could happen next as he fell asleep the night prior.

So they played. Sitting side by side at the bar, Gajeel slowly became engrossed in the story while sober, and became just as loud and boisterous as he had before. Within half an hour, the two men were wrapped up in the narrative Freed was weaving, and the choices Gajeel was making.

By the end of the week, the two had become a mainstay at the bar.

As time went on and Gajeel got slightly healthier, they discovered things about each other. Gajeel was a lot more creative that Freed gave him credit for – both with his approach to problem solving and with the character he was playing. He also showed a dislike for unfair leadership, if his character punching a villainous prince was telling of his own ideals. Freed had smirked at that, they shared an opinion that leadership is something earned.

What was most interesting was Gajeel's reaction to one character in particular. A simple knight who defended Gajeel's character against the villainous prince. Gajeel latched onto the man, his character insisting the knight travel with him. Freed almost thought it was… not platonic.

So, he experimented.

The knight, after a while, began to flirt with Gajeel's character. Nothing obvious at first, just enough for Freed to gauge Gajeel's reaction to having his character be the subject of a man's interest. When the character's flirtation became more obvious, it seemed Gajeel had noticed. His reaction made Freed feel strangely warm.

He smirked, looked directly at Freed, and let out a small 'Gihi.'

Freed hadn't been sure how to react, so did his best to continue the story.

Weeks went by, and Gajeel healed further. He no longer relied on his crutches thanks to some healing magic, and although he was still yet to go on a mission, it was clear that it would be possible soon. As he walked into the guild, he had no bandages covering him and looked almost completely uninjured. He walked to Freed, patting him on the shoulder to get his attention rather than sitting beside him.

"Evening Scribe," Gajeel greeted, using the nickname he had given to Freed. "I was thinking, maybe we could, y'know, not do the improv thing tonight?"

"Oh," Freed stated. He was disappointed, he wasn't ashamed to admit that, but had expected this to happen eventually. "Of course, that's fine."

"Wait, I didn't- shit," Gajeel's face looked troubled. "I meant- what I wanted to say was. Maybe we could do something else. Get a meal or somethin'. I dunno. I just, I'm feeling better now, and I'd've been pretty pissed off if I didn't have anything to do for weeks. And you're good company."

"That…" Freed paused, a little taken aback. "That sounds good. I'd enjoy that."

"Great," Gajeel grinned; Freed had also noticed he wore his emotions on his sleeve. "You wanna go now?"

"I'd like that," Freed nodded.

The two men left the guildhall a moment later, side by side, and Freed smiled a little when he caught sight of the grin on Gajeel's face. He took a step closer to the dragon slayer as they walked, and the other man absently brushed their knuckles against each other.

"Y'know this is a date, right?" Gajeel suddenly asked.

"I do," Freed chuckled.

"Just wanted to make sure," Gajeel shrugged, wrapping an arm around Freed's shoulder as they walked. It was a rather nice feeling. "Because you ain't the smartest guy when it comes to picking up on when someone's flirtin' with ya."

"Who's been flirting with me that I haven't noticed, might I ask?"

"Me, dumbass," Gajeel laughed. "Well, my character, if you wanna be clear. But we both know the flirtin' and seducing shit was between us. Least I did."

"When exactly did you flirt back?" Freed frowned, thinking back.

After the knights initial flirting and the reaction he got, Freed assumed that Gajeel had forgotten it had happened. After that, any appearance of flirtation between them both was conscience. Or perhaps wishful thinking.

"You really didn't notice, did ya," Gajeel cackled. "This is gonna be fun, Gihi."


	7. Day Seven - Lies [Gajeed]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evergreen and Bickslow have noticed that Freed has been sneaking away night after night, and decide to follow him to find out why. Unfortunately, Laxus is there to stop them.

**Day Seven – Lies (That Shouldn't be Revealed)**

"He's going again."

Evergreen narrowed her eyes as she followed Freed's retreating form out of the guild's main entrance. This had been the fourth time that week where he had left early in the evening, not giving any real reason as to why he wouldn't be spending the rest of the night with the Raijinshuu. It was unlike him, and it was bothering his teammates.

Bickslow also watched him leave, frowning. He looked to Evergreen with an expression of mischief plastered onto his features. Where Evergreen saw a problem, Bickslow saw an opportunity. Both to find out why Freed was acting weird, and to have some fun.

"Why don't we follow him," He suggested with a laugh. "Bust him in the act."

"I suppose we could," Evergreen agreed, tapping her fingers on the table as she too smiled. "He might be doing something dangerous, and need our help."

"Imagine how we'd feel if he got in trouble and we weren't there to help him," Bickslow nodded. "We'd never get over it."

"It would be awful."

That was all the justification the two needed, and a moment later they snuck out of the guildhall. It took them only a few moments to locate their teammate, and they began to follow him as best they could without attracting attention to themselves. It was a relatively successful task, as both of them knew how to be stealthy during their missions and had perfected the art of blending in even despite their standout appearances.

As they followed him, they went to a part of Magnolia unfamiliar to them. It was a little more run down than what they were used to, with buildings packed tightly together and lacking the decorative flair that the tourist based parts of the city did.

"Where the hell is he going?" Bickslow whispered as Freed turned another corner.

"Maybe he really is doing something dangerous," Evergreen murmured, looking at her captain with a small frown. "He said he was going home, which is clearly a lie. And now he's come here, it's not like him."

Bickslow shook his head, genuine concern filling him now. He went to creep forward so they could continue to keep track of their team captain, but a strong hand landed on his shoulder and stopped him where he stood. He slowly turned his head to look at who had touched him, to see Laxus standing above them both, a clearly unimpressed look on his face. Bickslow could only smile a guilty smile as he looked at his friend.

Laxus silently dragged them both by the shoulder away from the alleyway that Freed had walked down, not saying anything until they reached a nearby canal. He released their shoulders, crossed his arms and glared at them both.

"What do the two of you think you're doing?"

"Freed's been sneaking off every day this week," Evergreen started, looking back to where they had just walked from.

"And he's been lying about it, too. So we followed him because we wanted to make sure he's alright," Bickslow continued, though Laxus' expression didn't change.

"Freed can look after himself, and if he got himself into something he couldn't handle then he's sensible enough to come to us and ask for help," Laxus said, voice annoying disapproving. "And I'm sure the biggest threat he's under right now is being stalked by two fucking idiots."

"What if he's getting hurt," Bickslow said back. "Or being blackmailed or something."

"Then he'd maim the people doing it and make sure it didn't happen again," Laxus sighed. "Look, he's allowed his own life without you two interfering. Just let it go, I'm sure he'll tell you when he's ready."

"Do you know what he's doing?" Evergreen crossed her own arms now, and a small amount of disbelief entered her voice. "Did he tell you and not us?"

"He didn't tell me anything," Laxus grunted.

It wasn't technically a lie. Freed hadn't told him where he was going, what he was doing or why he was doing it, but Laxus did know. He too had been a little worried about Freed's unusual behaviour, but rather than deciding to follow him, he's kept a closer eye on the rune mage over the last few days and had realised just what was happening.

Freed was dating someone. Gajeel Redfox, to be precise.

Laxus hasn't believed it at first, thinking that the occasional glances shared between them that he had noticed were nothing of importance. But there was other things; the slight smell of iron on Freed's clothing, the occasional reddening of Gajeel's cheeks when Laxus caught him looking, the fact that they coincidentally were getting drinks at the bar at the same time multiple times a night. It was all a bit too coincidental.

His suspicions were confirmed when – due to the top floor of the guildhall was being renovated and Laxus sitting on closer to the bar than normal – he heard a hushed conversation between them both. They laughed, joked, and were clearly comfortable around each other in a way that Freed often wasn't with his acquaintances. They had promised to see each other later in the night, and that was all the confirmation that Laxus needed.

He was happy for his friend. The two men weren't an obvious match exactly, but if the iron-head made Freed happy then Laxus had nothing against it.

It was good to see him like that, actually.

The blonde didn't know exactly why they were keeping their relationship a secret. Maybe it was because they didn't want interference, maybe it was because they were both private people. Either way, it didn't matter to Laxus. He happened to know about their relationship by accident, and he would do what he could to keep it a secret until the time came where Freed and Gajeel were comfortable in telling everyone themselves.

And if that meant following the scent of Bickslow and Evergreen as they followed Freed to Gajeel's apartment, then he would do that too. Because the small glimpse into their relationship had told Laxus that, right now, his friend was happy and in love. And he wanted to make sure that remained true.

"Come on," Laxus grunted to his two friends. "You both owe me a drink for dragging me out here."

He started to walk back to the guild, and his teammates followed him. They continually asked him what he knew, so his lie hadn't worked out, but he didn't care. He remained silent, being Freed's wingman without his friend even knowing.


	8. Day Eight - Ghosts [Gajeed]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some things that Gajeel had always kept to himself. His fear of ghost is included. But, sitting alone in an old house with Freed, he feels like he should let the other man know.

**Day Eight – Ghosts (And Existential Fears)**

Out of all the ways the day could have ended, this was the worst.

When Gajeel had decided to go on a mission with his boyfriend, he had been excited. A landlord had brought an old manor house that had long since been abandoned with the intention to refurbish it and sell it off. Apparently she had been hearing crashes and seeing shadows in the corners of the house that only appeared at night. She had assumed it was a creature of some kind and wanted it gone, and the two men had taken the job.

Freed and Gajeel had spent the day trying to figure out what the animal may be. They'd looked for potential places where the creature could be in the day, looked into the local wildlife, and assessed possible ways to deal with whatever it could be. Freed had set up traps with his runes, and Gajeel had crafted some cages if the animals weren't hostile.

But, as day turned to night, they had found nothing of use.

What was worse, however, was how different the house seemed at night. The run-down building was fine during the day, if not a little structurally questionable, but at night it was just different. The lack of light, the broken glass and rotten wood, and the creaking floorboards all worked together to make it seem… haunted.

"Are you okay?" Freed asked in a hushed voice.

They were both sitting in the houses lounge, as this was where most of the creatures had been seen. The room was illuminated by flickering candles, which only added further to the gothic haunted aesthetic that Gajeel wasn't enjoying.

"Fine," Gajeel said, unconvincingly.

"Are you sure?" Freed said again, moving from the chair he was sitting on to the sofa with Gajeel. "You look pale."

Gajeel sighed a little. "This ain't exactly… I don't really like places like this."

"Why not?" Freed asked, placing a hand comfortingly on Gajeel's thigh. Even though he saw his boyfriend move to do it, Gajeel flinched a little at the contact. Freed frowned further. "You can leave, if you want."

"No. No it ain't that bad," Gajeel shook his head a little. "I'll get over it."

"If you don't mind me asking," Freed continued. "What do you need to get over?"

Gajeel sighed. He and Freed hadn't been dating for that long – this was their first mission together as a couple, actually – and their relationship had been pretty easy going. They were close, and knew many of each other's secrets, but there were still things they didn't know about the other. One such thing was Gajeel's irrational fear, something he was ashamed of and didn't want the supposedly fearless rune mage know.

But they were dating, and they needed to be honest with each other. And, as embarrassing as it was for a mage who got into fights for a living to be scared of something impossible, Gajeel felt Freed needed to know.

"I-I," Gajeel winced at the stupid stutter in his voice. "I'm kinda- I've got a fear of ghosts. And, well, this is the kinda place that you'd see a ghost."

Freed looked at his boyfriend, frowning a little. Gajeel didn't meet his eye. He had always thought that his fear of ghosts was somewhat pathetic and telling the man he loved about it was something almost humiliating. Freed was always a rational and calm man, who probably didn't believe in ghosts. Hell; not even Gajeel believe in ghosts really, but the possibility of them being was enough to sustain his fear.

"I mean, I know it's fucking stupid," Gajeel continued. He wanted to retain some dignity. "I get that they ain't real. I know there's not gonna be some kinda pissed off dead guy slamming doors and breaking vases and stuff. But it's just… If there's even a chance they exist, it fucks with my head. What could I do against that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, what if I had to fight a ghost, for whatever reason. I mean, I don't have magic like yours. Mine ain't… magical, I guess," Gajeel shrugged. "I can hit things pretty hard, and I have physical spells, but if I can't touch something then I can't do anything. And having to fight something I can't touch; it just scares me."

Gajeel was practically squirming now. This was something hardly anyone knew. He kept it hidden because of how damn stupid it was. And as much as he trusted Freed, he wouldn't hold it against Freed if he judged him for it. A man like Gajeel being scared of something children were scared off was stupid.

"I can understand that," Freed said softly. "It's about power, and I can understand that well."

"You can?" Gajeel looked up, frowning.

"Of course. As mages we rely on our power and our abilities to keep ourselves safe. It's perfectly natural that being in a situation where this power is taken away from us would scare us," Freed leant against Gajeel's side in a comforting way. "It's part of the reason I sometimes get scared of getting older."

"Gettin' older?" Gajeel echoed, brows furrowing.

"My magic relies on my mind. Sometimes, as people get older they lose their mental prowess," Freed said, frowning a little. "When I think of getting older, I wonder what would happen if my mind started to deteriorate and I lost who I am. I'd lose my personality, my independence, and even my magic. These are the things that I have relied on throughout my life, and the prospect of losing them is terrifying to me."

"Oh," Was the only thing Gajeel could say. "If it's any consolation, you're probably too spiteful to lose your independence."

"Thank you," Freed said with a laugh. "And, similarly, if a ghost did see you they'd probably scared off by your piercings."

"Hey!" Gajeel exclaimed, feigning offense. "Thought you liked 'em."

"I do, but I'm not an uptight old-fashioned ghost."

"Nah, you're just an uptight old-fashioned living guy," Gajeel taunted back, knocking Freed's knee with his own. "Thanks, though. I don't really talk about that much. Always thought people would think I'm some sort of freak. So, thanks for not thinking that, I guess."

"It's perfectly fine," Freed smiled. "And I promise, if we ever do come face to face with a ghost, they will not harm you if I have anything to do with the situation."

"Yer sweet," Gajeel grinned. "And I promise that I'll do whatever it takes to keep that mind of yours sharp for as long I know you. Even if I have to challenge your smug ass every damn day."

"I'd expect nothing less of you, Iron-Slayer," Freed grinned, leaning over and resting his head against Gajeel's shoulder. It was a comforting gesture, and Gajeel rested his own head against Freed's.

When Gajeel looked over to Freed to see the soft smile on his boyfriend's face, he felt so damn loved that it hurt. It was a feeling that Gajeel had no intention of losing, and he doubted that anything could get in the way of it. Certainly not some damn ghost.


	9. Day Nine - Blossom [Gajeed]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, Gajeel gets overwhelmed, and he’s forced to endure a panic attack. Freed has helped a lot with them since they’ve gotten together, but Gajeel can’t rely on him. Freed knows this, and offers him help through gardening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning, this one has a description of a panic attack, so be aware of that if it’s an issue for you.

**Day Nine – Blossoms (Of A Calming Garden)**

Sometime Gajeel got overwhelmed. Most of the time, Fairy Tail's loud and relentless loudness didn't affect him, other than minor irritation. But every few months, something much worse would happen. Everything would get far too much, his enhanced senses would feel like they were burning, his vision would blur, and it felt as though he was being smothered by everything and everyone around him. He was nauseous and scared and vulnerable all at the same time.

It had always been something that happened to him, as much as he hated it. He'd gained a few coping mechanisms – mainly leaving the situation as quickly as possible, but also breathing techniques and other such tricks – but he'd never fully understood what they were.

Until he started to date Freed.

The man had noticed how different he was behaving during one of his 'moods', as Gajeel had referred to them at the time. Rather than questioning what was happening, Freed had placed a hand on his back, spoken softly to him and started to walk him out of the guildhall. He'd given him time to recover, not saying anything and not moving his hand, and simply sat by him. Gajeel had cried; the comforting gesture of his lover's hand against his back had seemed to anchor him in place, and the sensation was so grounding that Gajeel couldn't deal with it any other way.

After Gajeel had recovered, Freed explained he had a panic attack. That it was natural, more so with the advancements of his senses, and that many people underwent them when under stress. Although it didn't make Gajeel feel anymore nauseous or hesitant to return to the guildhall in the following days, it did help a little.

It also helped to have someone there to help him through everything.

"Gajeel," Freed said, early in the morning as the dragon-slayer drunk his coffee. "I have something for you."

The iron mage frowned a little, looking up from his drink. His boyfriend had been acting a little strange over the last few weeks, and he had been wondering what the other man had been doing, and perhaps this gift would be an explanation. He hadn't asked of course; he trusted his boyfriend to look after himself and didn't want to be the kind of man who needed to know what his lover was doing every moment of every day.

"It's outside," Freed explained, before turning around.

Gajeel followed him into the garden. He had spent the night at Freed's house, a nice building at the edge of Magnolia. It was the direct opposite of his own apartment, with large amounts of space, a view of the river nearest the city, and boasting an overall peaceful feeling. Gajeel liked his apartment well enough, but Freed's house was objectively better.

"You said that you didn't want to become reliant on me during your panic attacks," Freed began again, looking over his shoulder. "I believe I might have a solution that could help you."

As they walked, Gajeel frowned a little. It was true he refused to allow himself to depend on Freed to help him with panic attacks. Freed wasn't always going to be there, and it wasn't fair to put this burden on the other man. What Freed's garden had to do with it, Gajeel didn't know.

When they turned the corner to the garden, Gajeel saw an obvious new addition to the land. Large plant boxes filled only with soil bordered the expense of grass, along with a small group of plants that remained in the plastic pots they had been brought in placed beside the boxes. Freed walked towards them, and Gajeel followed while sipping the coffee he had kept with him.

"From what you said, once you had gotten over the initial panicking, you still feel an underlying sense of dread, which you've claimed is what I help with," Freed explained. "So I've made these for you."

"You made plant boxes?" Gajeel questioned, frowning.

"It'll give you something to do while you're coming down from the sensation," Freed said, kneeling down. "I know you're more artistic than you like to admit, and you'll want them to look nice. That'll occupy your mind, at least somewhat."

"Suppose," Gajeel said, nodding a little.

"And, importantly, gardening is rather tactile," Freed said, running his hand through the dirt. "You'll feel the dirt under your nails, the metal of the tools against your hands, the softness of petals against your skin. These will all bring you down, even if just a little."

Gajeel looked down at the array of plants, and the boxes of soil that Freed had constructed. He ran a finger over a soft pink petal, feeling the gentle tickling sensation on his callus hands, and he smiled. All of Freed's justification for his gifts made sense, and although neither knew if it would work as well as they hoped, it was definitely something they could try. And even the gesture of it was incredibly thoughtful, and the dragon-slayer couldn't fight off the emotion.

"I've also got you this," Freed continued, offering a small item to Gajeel. It was a little stone, with a runic pattern on it. "It's imbued with a teleportation spell. Push your finger hard enough against it, and it'll take you here if you need it urgently."

That was when Gajeel felt tears form in his eyes.

He moved quickly to pull Freed into a hug, burying his face into his boyfriend's shoulder and hiding his face. He held him firmly, and felt Freed do the same back to him. He kept his sobs to himself, and Freed didn't say anything. Just allowed him to hold him for however long he wanted.

"Thank you," He mumbled into Freed's shoulder, smiling as he pulled back. "Its… this is so good of ya."

"You needn't thank me," Freed smiled, leaning down and resting their foreheads together. "Just make sure you use it whenever you need it."

"Promise," Gajeel said with a small grin.

"Good," Freed nodded. "I'll leave you alone for a little while; give you some time to get used to it."

Freed stood up, and pressed his lips against the top of Gajeel's head in a slight kiss. He walked away, leaving Gajeel to look over the array of plants that he had been gifted. He removed one from the pot, running his rough fingers across the blossoming flower. At the sensation, he looked back to his boyfriend and didn't fight off the smile that formed.

It was nice, being loved.


	10. Day Ten - Truth [Gajeed]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freed wasn’t a perfect man, and sometimes he told lies. But if that lie allowed him to watch his boyfriend as he worked, then it wasn’t such a bad thing. Specifically when Gajeel knew exactly what he was doing.

**Day Ten – Truth (And Teasing)**

It hadn't been a lie from the start. Technically.

Freed's sword had been damaged, and he did need his boyfriend's expertise in metalwork to fix it. When he originally asked the man for his help, it had been an innocent request rooted in his need for a weapon. The slight lie came when Freed requested to watch Gajeel work on the weapon. He had claimed that he wanted to make sure it wasn't damaged further due to the sentimentality of the blade.

That was a lie, he wanted to watch Gajeel work.

He had known that Gajeel was good with metal, and not just in a magical sense. He was well versed in blacksmith work as a hobby, and had converted the small outside garage into a workshop to maintain this. Despite this, Freed had never seen him work, and he had been curious.

When Gajeel allowed him to watch him work, Freed found himself entranced by the work. Freed's mind was well versed in the practicality of the world, but mainly in relation to magic. He often focused on how magic can be applied to the world, and he sometimes disregarded the effect of labour and non-magic skills. But watching as Gajeel hammered burning metal into a weapon was incredible, and instantaneous nature of it all made it hard to look away. With every strike, Gajeel improved the sword.

So, once the sword was back to being functional again, Freed decided that he wanted to see him working more. So he requested that Gajeel recreate the hilt design, as it had become scuffed over time and needed refurbishment. Gajeel had done so and allowed Freed to watch.

Once that was done, he rediscovered a selection of fighting knives he wished to use, and that needed to be sharpened. Again, Gajeel had complied with the request and Freed had watched him work with curiosity.

So technically it wasn't lying. Just an expansion of the truth.

And it wasn't as if Gajeel was doing something he didn't enjoy. Hell, once the daggers had been sharpened he had offered Freed his iron-working services without prompting. Apparently he wanted to test out his intricate carving abilities and wished to do so by adding a pattern to the blade of Freed's weapon, promising that it would be just as effective as it had been before. He had invited Freed to watch him work, claiming that he liked the company.

With this in mind, Freed hadn't done anything mistrustful. Which was why it was quite annoying that he felt the need to tell the truth to his boyfriend about why he was requesting so much metal work all of a sudden.

"Gajeel," Freed began as the iron-slayer brushed metal filing off the sword. "I should admit something to you."

"Yeah?" Gajeel frowned, looking up.

"You've probably realised that, quite suddenly, I've been requiring your services often," Freed said, cheeks reddening a little. He hoped he could explain it away with the hotness of the room. "I don't actually need them, as such. Moreover, I wanted to see you work, and thought this would be the best way to do so."

"Really?" Gajeel said, crossing his arms, grinning and speaking in a tone very smug. "Well that is a surprise."

The way he spoke made his meaning clear. He knew. He had always known.

"When did you realise?" Freed sighed, even redder now.

"The daggers," Gajeel laughed, placing the sword on a workbench and walking over to where Freed was sitting. "You know, you ain't nearly as mysterious as you think you are. Kinda wanted to see how far you'd go to keep it up. Wondered if you'd suddenly realise you need knew knives and forks and wanted me to make them, as well."

Gajeel all but cackled at the embarrassed glare that Freed gave him. He grabbed his boyfriend's hand and pulled him from his seat, wrapping his arms around the man's waist and pushing their lips together in a soft kiss. He was grinning and felt Freed melt against him slightly.

"You're intolerable," Freed sighed after pulling away from the kiss.

"And yer a liar," Gajeel countered. "So, you like watching me work huh? Or is it just seein' me get sweaty?"

"Well, admittedly watching you put these muscles to good work is rather delightful," Freed laughed, running a hand over Gajeel's arms. "I do genuinely find metalwork to be enchanting to watch, though. I can't explain why, but seeing you take something rough and callus and turning it into something beautiful with your own hands, it's intoxicating."

Gajeel's face betrayed his emotions, and a small amount of glee split onto his features. He would have been happy if Freed just wanted to watch him work because he enjoyed seeing his muscles flex under the effort – teasing his boyfriends more primal side was a favourite pastime of Gajeel's – but this was better. Because his boyfriend had taken an interest in his craft, and appreciated it in the same way he did.

People often wondered why Gajeel enjoyed working with metal in this way. His magic allowed him to make anything out of iron without difficulty. The reason he did it was because, above all else, he enjoyed making something out of ore. Making something impressive and, often, beautiful.

Freed got that!

He leant down and pressed their lips together, the teasing nature of their previous kiss replaced with a genuine love. He nuzzled their noses together as they pulled apart, grinning wide at his boyfriend as he pulled apart.

"Y'know," He started. "I could teach you some of the basics, if you want. You're pretty good with yer hands, you'd pick it up fast."

"I'd like that," Freed smiled.

Gajeel nodded, walked them both to his workbench. He would start off from the very beginning and teach him everything. And if it took him longer than needed, that was fine.

Freed had done the same to him, after all.


	11. Day Eleven - Questions [Fraxus]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freed should have guessed that, the moment he let it be known that he was dating someone, Mirajane would try to find out who he was. But Freed could deal with her better than most, and would prove that easily.

**Day Eleven – Questions (And an Answer)**

"Why can't you just tell me?"

Mirajane was leaning forward, her milkshake pushed to the side as she glared at Freed across the table. She had an expression of determination on her features that would have made any normal man immediately want to crumble and give her whatever she wanted. Freed was not a normal man and looked back at her without care.

When she had invited him to their local diner to catch up, he should have guessed that it wasn't a polite invitation between friends. He hadn't established a link between her sudden and unexpected wish to see him in person and what he had done earlier in the day.

To think, changing his relationship status on Facebook would end up with him being interrogated.

"Why can't you tell me his name? I probably don't even know him, so it wouldn't matter."

"You'd look him up the second I was looking away," Freed replied, absently twisting the straw of his drink. "My relationship is private, I'm not even sure why I updated my profile. So, you can ask as many times as you'd like, I won't tell you about him."

"What if I make you a deal. You tell me his name and show me a picture, and I promise that I won't even think about looking him up," Mirajane bargained.

"No," Freed said, looking down at the empty basked of fries they were sharing.

Mirajane leant back, clearly thinking over a new way that she could extract the information that she so desperately wanted. Freed would wonder why she was so curious, but there was no point in it. Mirajane, though a delightful and caring person, would often involve herself in her friend's relationships to a point where it might have been invasive. She was harmless with it – assumedly she just wanted to share in the happiness of a new relationship – but it did get somewhat annoying when you were a victim to it.

Freed and Laxus weren't keeping their relationship a secret from their friends, exactly. Laxus wanted to tell his grandfather first; both that he was dating Freed, and that he wasn't as straight as he had previously thought. Makarov should know first.

That was what he was doing now, actually. Freed hoped it was going well.

"Wait," Mirajane said, wistfully. "Is it someone we know? Do I know them?"

"No," Freed lied. "I'm still a little hungry. Could you get me some gravy fries?"

If he was going to be tortured with questions, he might as well get a meal out of it.

"It's okay if you don't want to tell me," Mirajane suddenly whimpered, ignoring Freed's request. Freed smirked at the quiver in her voice. "I understand that you want to keep it private. Its clear our friendship isn't as important as I had thought it was."

Then she started crying. Freed almost laughed.

"You're grossly underestimating how comfortable I am with everyone here thinking I've made you cry," Freed leant back, allowing Mirajane to continue. The tears stopped and were replaced with a glare.

"Fine," Mirajane sighed, standing up. "I'll get it out of you eventually."

"You won't."

Freed watched as Mirajane walked to the counter, most likely to get him the fries he wanted; the first step in negotiation was getting the person their choice of food, Freed supposed. Once she was talking to the sever, he pulled out his phone and looked at the notifications he'd gotten. He had texted Laxus that Mirajane had been railing him for more information, hoping to give the blonde something to laugh at to calm his nerves.

_From Laxus (17:56):  
Good luck with her. She don't conform to the Geneva Convention._

_From Laxus (18:10):_

_Just told him, he's crying._

_From Laxus (18:11):_

_He's happy. Hugged me, said I should invite you to eat at his place. don't know how long itll be until I can leave, so see ya later._

With a smile, Freed sent a quick text saying that he should take his time with his grandfather, and that it was good that he was supportive of him. He also included a thanks for the advice on dealing with Mirajane.

He returned his phone back into his pocket just as Mirajane came back to the table with a basket of gravy fries and another milkshake. She seemed to have noticed that he had texted someone and paused just before she put the food on the table. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she got an understanding of what happened.

"You were texting him, weren't you?" She asked.

"I was," Freed smiled and nodded. "Imagine if you were here when I was. You could have taken my phone and seen his name and his picture. You could even see how we talk to each other," He taunted. "And you missed it by only a few seconds."

"I should pour this over your head," Mirajane mumbled as she sat down.

"But you won't. Because you know if you did that I'd keep my boyfriend hidden for the rest of our lives to spite you," Freed smiled.

"Well, if we're allowed to be spiteful, then I think that comment justifies another load of questions," Mirajane smiled, and it would have scared a lesser man. Freed ate a gravy covered fry, leant back in his chair and prepared himself.

He couldn't be sure exactly how long Mirajane continued her onslaught of questions, but he managed to stay strong throughout the experience. He refuted almost every question; and those he didn't he had told her incorrect answers to annoy her. She picked up on that fairly quickly, apparently it wasn't likely that Freed would be dating an elderly circus performer that he met in a woodworking convention hosted by decapitated corpse of an Egyptian Queen.

She kicked him under the table for the latter lie.

The evening had gotten darker now, and Freed had yet to feel his phone buzz in reply from Laxus. He had decided that he'd wait until he returned to leave; as annoying as the situation may be, Mirajane was good company. And he was getting used to the endless speaking from Mirajane. Which was why it was so obvious when she stopped.

"Isn't that…" Mirajane trailed off, frowning as she looked past Freed to the door.

He looked over his shoulder to see that Laxus had walked in, brushing snow off his shoulders. Freed frowned, Laxus hadn't texted him saying that he would be coming to the diner when he was done. He focused on that, looking towards Laxus as the blonde approached them with a gentle smile. It was good to see him smiling; the talk with Makarov had gone as well as the texts showed, then.

"She demon," Laxus said, nodding his head towards Mirajane in greeting. "Freed."

He leant down, cupped Freed's chin with both hands and brought their lips together. It was a slow kiss, short lived but passionate. Freed closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation greatly. Laxus pulled away with a grin.

"I'm gonna get some coffee, one second," Laxus smirked.

When Freed looked back at Mirajane, she was beaming.


	12. Day Twelve - Acceptance [Fraxus]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laxus felt awful for even thinking it, but as he sat in the apartment he shared with Freed, he considered all the firsts he'd never experience again if he stayed with Freed. But when he comes back, Laxus starts to feel okay.

**Day Twelve – Acceptance (Of The Next Step)**

The thought hit him suddenly, and knocked him off kilter.

Laxus was sitting in the apartment he shared with Freed, which he had only just moved into. He was alone, watching the TV absent minded as he waited for Freed to return from the take-out place with their dinner. He had been smiling, thinking back over his relationship with the man. His mind settled on his first kiss with his boyfriend, the electricity he felt and the burning passion that had been shared between them. It had been fantastic.

And then he realised that he would probably never have a first kiss again. It left him feeling a little bit weird.

He loved Freed, there was no doubt in his mind about that. When he thought about his future he envisioned Freed by his side, perhaps as his husband one day. He wasn't going to leave Freed, nor was he going to spiral or doubt his feelings for the man. This was the best relationship he had ever had, and he relished every second of it.

But once he realised he'd perhaps never kiss someone again, more realisations hit him. He'd never experience a first date with someone, never be struck by the feeling of love for the first time, never take someone to bed for the first time.

It made him feel a little… he didn't know.

He had never been anything near a player, but he had enjoyed dating. Being an attractive young man, he got peoples attentions often and it had been fun. Kissing someone, falling for someone, enjoying the throws of new passion. It had all been a light, fun experience. Then, with the few people he had gotten serious with, he'd gotten to know them. Gotten to love them, and that had been equally fun.

The fact that it might not happen again was a little odd. Like losing something that was always there.

What made it worse was how he didn't know what he felt. He truly did love Freed, wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. He wasn't going to cheat on the man, nor was he going to do anything else in relation to his feeling of loss. He was happy, deliriously so, with his relationship. But still, that feeling of missing something was there.

This had been the farthest he'd gotten in a relationship. Maybe he had commitment issues.

Should he talk to Freed about this? Would that help or make things worse?

Questions as to what he should do plagued his mind as he waited for Freed to return, and he tried to distract himself by focusing on the action movie he had put on in the background. It worked as a small distraction, and allowed him to push the small feeling of nervousness to the back of his mind. At least for a short while.

When Freed returned with their food, it only made Laxus feel more conflicted. Because the rush of feelings he felt when he saw Freed was still there, reaffirming how damn much he loved him. He adored this man, everything about him, and loved being with him.

So why did he feel like he was missing out on something?

Freed didn't notice his odd behaviour, instead walking to their kitchen counter and removing the food from the plastic bag. Laxus had gotten himself a burger with fries, whereas Freed had gotten a curry. It was why he'd taken so long, having gone to multiple take-out places. Laxus walked towards him, stomach growling.

"Sorry it took so long," Freed apologised. "There was a woman complaining at the Indian place in front of me. Quite obnoxious too."

"Don't worry," Laxus shrugged. He looked down as Freed unwrapped his food. One smell in particular got his attention. Garlic cheese and chili naan bread. "Fuck, thought they took that off the menu."

"Apparently it's back," Freed said, pulling out Laxus' burger. "D'you want some?"

"Er, yeah," Laxus nodded, watching as Freed ripped the bread in half. An amused smile formed on his face. "Thought you didn't share food. Thought if you order something, that's all you eat."

"I do say that," Freed nodded. "But that's mainly so Bickslow doesn't eat half of my food when we eat out," He chuckled. "Consider me sharing my food as a perk now you live with me."

It was a joke, said in a teasing tone, but it made Laxus feel so warm.

Every bit of lingering doubt that he had felt about not experiencing a new first in a relationship seemed to fizzle away. It was for the stupidest reason as well, but it somehow seemed to make sense. This was the first time that they would share take-out in their own shared home. And, as ridiculous as the feeling was, it made sense.

Laxus didn't miss experiencing new things with new people. He was scared of missing the sensation of discovering new things about a person.

He enjoyed the first kiss because everyone kissed differently, and he wanted to know how to make it good for them. He enjoyed first dates because, if going well, you'd discover a whole damn new person. He enjoyed taking people to bed for the first time because you got to explore someone intimately, finding out their fondness's and how they were with everything stripped back. He liked the early stages of dating because of how exciting it was to _discover_ a person.

And suddenly, as absurd as it was, Laxus realised that he didn't know everything about Freed. He was now going to discover what it was like to know him as a roommate. He'd find out what he did when it was raining, and they were trapped inside. He'd find out how often he went grocery shopping. He'd find out small things about the man he loved.

"Although I should make it clear, this is something I want replicated," Freed continued, looking to Laxus with a smirk. "I am fully intending to steal a good amount of your fries."

"I think I can deal with that," Laxus grinned. "For a spoonful of chicken."

"Hm, you intend to bargain with me," Freed frowned. "You're aware that you've yet to pay your half, so I technically own all of this. I'm only giving it to you out of the goodness of my heart."

Thus, a playful debate began. And Laxus couldn't stop smiling, because playfully fighting over food with his boyfriend in their home for the first time was better than any first with anybody else.


	13. Day Thirteen - Loss [Fraxus]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took a lot to get Freed at a loss for words. To do so when he was presenting to a class, in the middle of the day, was a challenge. But all Laxus had to do was show his face.

**Day Thirteen – Loss (For Words)**

It was very rare that Freed was at a loss for words. This was one such time.

Finding him speechless was a difficult task. The man knew five languages – English, Japanese, German, Spanish and Arabic – and enjoyed showing off about it. Furthermore, he was rather a smartass when the mood struck him, and would quickly come up with a retort to anything said to him. He was quick-witted and smart, and it was almost impossible for him to be caught off guard to the point where he physically couldn't think of anything to say.

But Laxus had managed to do it, and all he'd done was shown up.

The two had been dating for half a year, but long distance. Freed lived in England and Laxus in America, and their meeting had been a chance occurrence when they had been vacationing in Mexico at the same time. They had gotten close during their two weeks together and were dating by the end of it.

They skyped often and had once met up in person when Freed's job had allowed him to come to New York. He was a university lecturer and had been invited to NYU as a visiting professor in philology. They had loved seeing each other there. That had been four months ago, and they hadn't seen each other in person since. Until now.

Now, Laxus was standing at the door of Freed's lecture hall, grinning.

Their next in person meeting was planned to be in a few months; they'd saved up to go away for a week together. And yet there he was, at the top of the staircase of the hall. Grinning, looking at Freed with a giddy amusement.

Freed, however, was still at a loss for words.

"Erm," He managed to say, eyes fixed on Laxus. Half of his students were looking at the man also. "I'm afraid to say we'll have to call it short today. I'll make it up next week, but it appears something has come up. You have my apologies."

The wait for his students to leave was agonisingly slow, and all Freed could think of was how much he wanted to walk to his boyfriend and kiss him. His grasp on being professional loosened with every second.

How damn long did it take to put away a laptop.

Eventually the students left, leaving Freed and Laxus alone in the large lecture hall. They both walked to each other in silence, moving instinctively as they wrapped their arms around each other and pulled the other into a kiss. It was slow, passionate and filled with almost four months of not touching each other. Freed melted into it, relaxing into his boyfriend and pushing against him to feel any amount of closeness to him.

"Why are you here?" Freed asked as the pulled apart, unwilling to fight off his smile.

"You don't want me here?" Laxus said with a grin, starting to pull away. "I can go back."

"Don't even consider it," Freed smirked, pulling Laxus against him. "Just answer my question."

"Well, my boss was pretty happy with me and I got a bonus for the end of the year," Laxus smiled. "Thought I might as well put it to good use."

"I'm glad you did," Freed smiled, resting his forehead against Laxus' with a soft expression on his face. "I didn't realise how much I've missed actually being with you."

Laxus pulled him into another kiss in response, wrapping his arms tight around the man's waist to pull him close. The feeling of having Laxus so close to him: to feel the smooth of his skin against his fingers and the rough texture of his coat against his torso. It felt so real, so perfect and incredible that Freed quickly found himself addicted again.

"How long are you here for?" He said, panting slightly as they pulled apart again.

"A week," Laxus said with a grin. "But, well, I actually need to talk to you about that."

"Why?" Freed frowned.

"Well, my boss got really happy with me performance and offered me a promotion," Laxus said, smiling a little proudly. Freed wished to kiss him for such a look. "And, well, the branch of the company I work at doesn't have an opening, but there's a few other places that do. Most of them are in America. But, well, there's one here."

It was perhaps a first. That Freed would be at a loss for words two times the same day.

Because the suggestion hit him instantly; Laxus had been offered a job that would have him move to London. It would mean that their relationship would no longer be long distance, and that they would be able to see each other in person almost whenever they wished. That they would be able to kiss each other whenever they wanted. The idea made Freed's stomach ache; he didn't realise how much he had wanted that until then.

"I know we need to talk about it," Laxus continued. "I'm not expecting ya to let me move in with you or anything, I'll get my own place. And I'm sure that there's a hundred other things we'll need to talk about before I make the decision, but the idea of being close to you. I fucking want that."

This time, it was Freed who instigated the kiss. He leant up and pressed their lips together softly, lacking the urgency of their previous kisses. Laxus was not only here for the week, but he could be moving here permanently very soon, so why rush?

"We can talk about that later," Freed promised. "But right now, I just want to enjoy the fact that you're here, in my arms."

"I ain't gonna argue with that," Laxus grinned, running his hand through Freed's hair as they pulled each other into a kiss.

Twice today Laxus had put him at a loss for words, and he loved the man for it.


	14. Day Fourteen - Growth [Fraxus]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laxus hadn’t taken it well when Freed and Makarov insisted that he go to therapy. And, as they drive there, he starts to close up. All Freed can do is be there for him in support.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has suggestions of depression and conversations about therapy, just a warning.

**Day Fourteen – Growth (And Support)**

Laxus hadn't spoken since they had gotten in the car.

It was the kind of reaction that Freed had expected, but that didn't make it feel any better. The blonde was clearly wrapped up inside his own thoughts, and Freed understood why. He didn't say anything to his husband as they drove, knowing that any speaking would probably only serve to aggravate Laxus. Still, it was hard to watch him so nervous and not know how he could help him feel better.

Once they arrived at their destination, it was clear Laxus' nervousness was getting worse. His posture tensed, his shoulders hunched, and his gaze didn't leave the ground. Freed wished he could do anything to make him feel better, but he couldn't. All he could do was be there to support Laxus.

"Are you ready to go in?" Freed asked softly. Laxus nodded.

The room was familiar to Freed, a simple yet pleasant waiting room with many soft colours. It was purposefully designed to be nice and welcoming, but the effect didn't do anything to calm Laxus' anxiety. Freed placed a hand on the mans back and gently guided him to the front desk.

"Laxus Dreyar, for a three thirty appointment," Freed said.

"Of course," The receptionist smiled. "Take a seat."

It had been Freed's suggestion that Laxus see a therapist. The blonde had an incredibly troubled, and potentially traumatic relationship with his father, but had always been closed off about it. Freed had often tried to help him whenever he could but lacked any professional ability. Anything he could do was guesswork, and its effectiveness varied.

Recently, it had become worse. Laxus confessed that his father had been in jail, but was soon to be released, and it was clearly affecting the man. Freed had done whatever he could, but it wasn't enough. That was when the suggestion of therapy had been made.

Laxus hadn't initially agreed with the idea. It had taken both Freed and Makarov quite some time to convince Laxus to attempt it. He had fought back harshly, claiming that he didn't need it because his father had no influence on him anymore. Both knew it was a lie but didn't say anything, instead attempting to convince him that it would be good even without his father being included. Eventually Freed had confessed that, as a teenager, he also had been to regular therapy sessions and it had helped him greatly.

So now they were here, in the same therapist's office that Freed had frequented as a teenager. It felt a little strange to be back, this was the building where Freed had allowed himself to be most vulnerable. He didn't say this, though, as Laxus was his priority.

"Is it always gonna feel this…" Laxus spoke up, thinking of a word. "Intimidating."

"It didn't for me," Freed patted his knee. "It took about a month, but eventually I got used to it. It was something I did, and it became normal."

"What if it doesn't?" Laxus muttered.

"Then, for whatever reason, it's not working. Maybe the therapist isn't a good fit for you, maybe the environment is wrong. And if that happens, we'll talk about what we can do next," Freed promised. "But that isn't something you need to worry about today. All you're doing is meeting someone and talking to them."

"You said it's the same guy you had, right?" Laxus asked, and Freed nodded. "What's he like?"

"Nice," Freed thought. "He's not… you might have an idea of a therapist in mind. Someone stone faced with a notepad they won't let you see. He's not that. He'll engage in conversation, treat you like a person. And as you get closer to him, it's just like he's a friend."

"Doubt it," Laxus laughed cynically.

"Well, maybe not a friend exactly," Freed amended. "But it won't be as difficult to talk to him as you'd think. He's not a judge, he's simply there to help you through what you're thinking. And, most importantly, he's on your side."

Laxus didn't say anything, and Freed frowned.

"Once, he called me a dumbass dickhole," Freed commented, which got Laxus' attention.

"What?" Laxus asked, and a small hint of a laugh entered his voice.

"One of the issues I was trying to get past was secluding myself socially. I over-corrected and, that particular week, I went out with people every night. I overwhelmed myself and didn't have any enthusiasm to meet with people for weeks. When I told him all of this, he called me a dumbass dickhole," Freed chuckled. "I think he was trying to make me laugh."

"Why?"

"Because," Freed paused. He should be honest. "They'll be times when this is exhausting, and you'll get defensive. Certain times it'll feel like you're being scolded, and you'll be angry. And sometimes you'll need to be reminded that he's there for you. That was his way of telling me that while also letting me know how stupid I was being."

"Did he really help you?" Laxus asked, and perhaps optimism snuck into his voice.

"He truly did," Freed promised. "And hopefully he can do the same for you, but if he can't then we'll work something else out. But you need to engage with him as much as you can, okay?"

"Okay," Laxus nodded.

He was looking down at the floor again, and Freed placed a hand on the man's back comfortingly. It was clear that Laxus' nervousness wasn't going to simply disappear, and that it would be hard for him to remain calm and composed throughout the session, but now at least it seemed like he was willing to try it without being completely closed off.

When the receptionist called Laxus' name, he took a breath, stood up and walked towards the session room. Freed watched him with a soft smile on his face; this would be difficult for him, but it was a step forward. That was all Freed could ask.


	15. Day Fifteen - Beginnings [Fraxus]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not once had Laxus been dating someone long enough to even think about introducing them to his grandfather. But, Freed apparently was different, because Laxus took the chance when presented without thinking.

**Day Fifteen – Beginnings (And Further)**

It hadn't been planned this way. If it had, Laxus probably would have spent days stressing about it happening, and perhaps would have talked himself out of doing it. This was a first for him – after all – and if it had been arranged before-hand Laxus would have inevitably worked himself into a mess panicking about everything that could have gone wrong. But, actually, this was all going rather well. It was actually quite nice.

"So, my boy, how did the two of you meet?" Makarov asked, smiling.

Laxus and never introduced a partner to his grandfather before. He had never really gotten that far with someone to the point where he wanted to make them a permanent fixture in his life, let alone the lives of his family and friends. His relationships had always been trapped at the beginning.

But Freed was different. The blonde couldn't explain why he felt like Freed was unique, exactly, he just knew in his gut that he was. Previously, he had been excited to see his partners and wanted to spend time with them, of course, but never in the way he did with Freed. He didn't just look forward to the time together as an idea, he looked forward to what they would do. Be that taking an overly competitive turn around an arcade, or walking to a take-out place together.

He wasn't in love with the concept of a partner. He was in love with the reality of Freed.

As Freed told the story of how they had met, Laxus stood up and went to the counter to get himself some coffee. He glanced back to see Makarov laughing as Freed spoke, and his boyfriend was smiling as he went on. Laxus smiled.

The couple had seen Makarov walking down the street by happenstance; the old man claimed he'd gotten his hair cut, but Laxus had seen him leave the chocolate shop that he wasn't meant to be entering because of a diet he was on. Rather than calling him out on that – which he was going to do eventually – a sudden urge hit the blonde.

He wanted to introduce Freed to him. That had never happened before.

And then he had. He asked Freed, who agreed, and a moment later they were talking. And it was really good. Laxus had always expected showing a partner off to his grandfather would be a hellish experience, filled with both embarrassment and worry that the old man might say something that would make him look bad. But this was fine; nice, actually. Maybe he shouldn't have put off doing this with his other partners.

Or maybe the fact it was Freed made a difference.

When the blonde brought the drinks to the table, Makarov groaned. Laxus had gotten himself a cappuccino, Freed a flat white with a scone, and Makarov an orange juice. The old man wasn't happy with what his grandson had gotten him, having ordered a hot chocolate.

"Stop pouting," Laxus condemned. "Your doctor said you need to worry about cholesterol."

"I'm over eighty years old, Brat, I can look after myself," Makarov went to pick up Laxus' coffee, but the blonde beat him to it. "Good luck with him, Freed. You've signed yourself up for a lifetime of this."

Laxus paused, eyes slowly hovering over to Freed. He knew he was in love with Freed, but their future hadn't truly been something that they had discussed. He didn't know how committed Freed was to the relationship, and Makarov bringing the topic up might be somewhat premature. Laxus didn't dare say anything, as he didn't want to risk… anything really.

"I'm sure I can make my peace with that," Freed said smoothly. "It's rather nice to be privy to that side of him."

"Be privy?" Laxus snorted. "You in your eighties as well?"

"Don't take any talk like that from him," Makarov said with a grin as Freed chuckled. "If you don't hit him, I will."

"I'm sure that won't be necessary," Freed smiled, patting Laxus' leg. "I expect that reminding him that he has a pair of shoes specifically for driving would make all the age-based comments stop. Otherwise you'd be a hypocrite, wouldn't you?"

"Asshole," Laxus chuckled, shaking his head.

"You have driving shoes?" Makarov cackled. "Even I don't have driving shoes. You don't have the gloves as well?"

That was how the rest of their time at the coffee shop went, with Freed and Makarov getting to know each other, occasionally making jokes at Laxus' expense. The blonde took them in good faith, seeing at it was a way the two were bonding with each other. Although he did make a note that, if he was going to invite Freed to his grandfather's house at some point, he would make sure to get there first and hide away anything that could be used to embarrass him. The photo-albums would be the first to go.

As they left, Makarov asked for a moment to speak to Laxus alone. Freed complied and walked to the car, leaving the two Dreyar's alone. Nerves filled Laxus as he waited for him to speak; his grandfather might have been pretending to like Freed.

"He'll be good for you," Makarov said, smiling. "And I like him, so you better not mess it up for yourself. I don't think you could do much better than that."

"Thanks," Laxus laughed, relaxing now. "I'm glad that you like him though. Cause I really think this might be something… I don't know. I just feel different with him."

"I've noticed. You look at him with these big eyes, had to hold my tongue about it because it was damn funny," Makarov grinned. "But he looks at you the same way. Don't be embarrassed."

"You think so?"

"Of course," Makarov smiled. "Keep him, Laxus."

"I will." Laxus promised.

The blonde smiled as he walked away. This was better than a relationship beginning; he loved it.


	16. Day Sixteen - Traditions [Gajeed]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gajeel had always lived an odd life, and often didn't see traditions in the same way other people did. But when Freed's birthday comes, he knows he wants to do something special for his boyfriend. And what better gift than the gift of music.

**Day Sixteen – Traditions (Of a Kind)**

Gajeel wasn't the most traditional man. He hadn't had a particularly normal life, starting life in a care home with multiple other kids and then being adopted by Metalicana, who also wasn't a traditional man. So often, in his later life, he'd realise that something that had never been important to him was a relatively big part of other people's lives.

One example was Freed's birthday.

He knew it was coming, but didn't think much of it. Birthdays had never been too big of a thing to him; his care home didn't have enough money for anything other than a cake shared between them all, after all. It was only when he ran into Bickslow, who was talking about the things that he intended to buy for Freed, that Gajeel realised that he should probably get the man something. Annoyingly, that happened the day before Freed's birthday, and Gajeel hadn't been paid in weeks. It wasn't a good situation.

What made it worse was Freed had lived in luxury compared to Gajeel, and he could only guess how grand Freed's birthdays had been. But Gajeel, his boyfriend, wouldn't be able get him anything. He had neither the time, nor the money.

All in all, the situation was shit.

But Gajeel wasn't going to just accept it. He loved Freed and wanted to make that know, and just because he couldn't afford to get him anything fancy or luxurious – no doubt like his friends would do – it didn't mean he couldn't do something good for the man he loved. With that in mind, he returned to his apartment as quickly as he could, removed his guitar from the wall, got some empty music sheets from a cupboard and started to strum.

The next day, he had woken up in Freed's bed, arms wrapped around the smaller man in a protective hold. Freed was still sleeping, and Gajeel absently nuzzled the top of his head before leaving the bed. He brewed coffee, and made a simple pastry-based breakfast. Well, he put pastries in the oven for a short while then onto a plate.

When Freed woke up, he seemed to appreciate it.

They ate together in the warmness of Freed's sheets, Gajeel delighted at the feeling of Freed's body gently leaning against him. He rested their heads together and smiled, he loved the moments of calm quiet with his boyfriend. Luckily for him, they came often.

"We should probably think about getting dressed soon," Freed suggested eventually. "Apparently Bickslow and Evergreen are intending to come here quite early."

"I suppose," Gajeel sighed. "Before we do, could I give you my gift. It ain't exactly… I mean you know I've been loosin' shifts because my boss is a dick, so I ain't got much money to spare-"

"I told you that you needn't worry about it," Freed assured him. "It's why I only mentioned it a few days ago. I don't really celebrate my birthday that much anyway. My friends are the ones who insist on doing something."

Gajeel could believe that, if Bickslow's excitement was reflective of them all.

"Well, I wanted to do something at least. Just give me a second."

After speaking, Gajeel stood up and walked to Freed's living room. He picked up his guitar case and removed the instrument from it, quietly checking it was in tune before entering the bedroom again. He couldn't help but smirk a little when he saw Freed eye the instrument warily before putting an enigmatic expression on his features. Freed seemed to be expecting the worst, Gajeel would be happy to prove him wrong.

"I, erm, I wrote it myself," Gajeel said, cheeks reddening as he sat at the end of the bed. "Hope you like it."

Then he began to play. It was a short instrumental piece, made with Freed in mind. It was dark, slow, smooth and rhythmic. He focused on the music, doing his best to instil the feelings he had for his boyfriend into the strumming of the strings.

When he glanced towards Freed, he saw that the man had closed his eyes. Gajeel smiled when he saw a gentle movement of his head in time with his music, it was clear that Freed was enjoying it. The feeling of warmth that flowed through Gajeel was amazing, and he was suddenly glad that he hadn't been able to buy Freed anything. He doubted getting him some trinket and a card would have gotten a reaction like this. This was better.

He played passionately, allowing himself to get as lost in the music as Freed seemed to be. The song soon ended though, and he allowed it to trail off. Freed's eyes fluttered open, and he looked at Gajeel with such a soft expression that he felt like he might have melted.

"Wow," Freed said softly. "That was incredible."

"Could've been better," Gajeel mumbled, he'd never been good at getting compliments. "Honestly I only started working on it last night, so it ain't as good as it could've been."

"The fact you're able to make that a day is incredibly impressive," Freed assured him, before speaking slightly hesitantly. "I do have one question, though."

"Yeah?" Gajeel asked, grinning again. He had a feeling he knew what it would be.

"Well, you've taken me to a fair few open mic nights where you've played," Freed's voice was careful, and Gajeel had to stop himself from laughing. "And, compared to this, your… musical style has been," He thought of a word, and Gajeel bit the inside of his mouth to stop himself from speaking. "Unique."

"Unique?" Gajeel said, a laugh in his voice. He'd let Freed stew for a little while longer. "What d'ya mean."

"Well, I'm not a musician so I'm not entirely sure what the, erm, technical terminology is," Freed began, and Gajeel was reaching his limit with how much laughter he could hold in. "But when you perform publicly, you're a little more-"

"Shit?" Gajeel completed with a cackle.

"I wouldn't say that," Freed said hurriedly, and Gajeel started to laugh hard.

"I lost a bet with salamander," Gajeel grinned. "At least once a month I need to go out in public, play some out of tune awful crap, do weird scat singing and make an ass out of myself."

"Oh," Freed said, blankly. His cheeks were red.

"Yeah," Gajeel grinned, crawling atop Freed and kissing him. "It's awful fun watching ya try and compliment me once I finished my set."

"Asshole," Freed muttered, leaning up and kissing Gajeel with a grin.


	17. Day Seventeen - Quiet [Gajeed]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a sleepless night, Freed and Gajeel find themselves at the beach, watching the sun rise. But as the waves crash around them, the quietness brings Freed to an oddly melencholy mood, and Gajeel tries to cheer him up.

**Day Seventeen– Quiet (Time Together)**

It didn't happen often, but sometimes both Freed and Gajeel wouldn't be able to sleep.

There was never a particular reason for it, but sometimes they both wouldn't be able to sleep. They would find themselves lying next to each other, unable to let the needed slumber overtake them. Sometimes they did nothing and hoped sleep would take them, sometimes they would distract themselves with each other's bodies, and other times they would do something a little more random. This was one such time.

"Neither of us are getting to sleep tonight," Gajeel eventually said, glancing at the clock. It was almost four in the morning. "So I've an idea, if you wanna hear it."

"Sure," Freed nodded as he shifted to look at his boyfriend.

"We call in sick tomorrow, or later today I guess, since we won't be able to concentrate if we go in," Gajeel began. "And since we won't have anything to do, we go to the beach," Gajeel saw Freed open his mouth to speak. He stopped him before he could say anything. "But we go right now."

"Its four in the morning, Gajeel," Freed said with a small laugh.

"Yeah it is," Gajeel nodded. "We take the bike out; the roads won't be busy so it should only take half an hour. It'll basically be empty; we could probably watch the sun rise."

"That actually rounds rather nice," Freed admitted.

They were moving a minute later and dressed themselves appropriately for the cold of early morning by the coast. Soon they climbed atop Gajeel's motorcycle and were rushing through the near empty streets of Magnolia, the rush of cold wind shaking away any tiredness that either man was feeling. Unbeknown to Gajeel, Freed was smiling slightly as he clung to him; he had grown to enjoy riding on Gajeel's bike, and something about the earliness of the morning made this experience feel a little different.

Throughout their relationship, many people had pointed out that Gajeel wasn't what they expected in a boyfriend for Freed. They had, sometimes rudely, suggested he should have dated someone more refined. Freed disagreed. Because Gajeel was rather perfect for him.

He was sweet, and artistic, and kind. Perhaps he had a lot of piercings and that might not be the conventional picture of niceness, but it didn't change who Gajeel was. He was a creative, heartfelt man with a charmingly impulsive side that had more than once gotten Freed to do something he wouldn't have considered doing when he was alone. He certainly wouldn't be going to the beach in the morning, he'd be fighting to fall asleep so he wouldn't be yawning at him meeting tomorrow.

Gajeel wasn't the perfect boyfriend for everyone, but he was as close as Freed felt was possible for him.

Once they arrived at the coast, it was still dark. They parked the bike at a nearby clearing, removed their leathers and walked towards the beach side by side. The stars and moon were the only thing illuminating their walk to the sand, and the tranquillity of the situation was perfect.

As they got closer, the sound of the sea could be heard. It was a relatively choppy ocean, with impressive waves crashing down illuminated by the starlight. Freed had always preferred when the ocean was chaotic and crashing than when it was calm; he always thought it gave it more character and grandeur. The sea was perhaps the most formidable thing on the planet, and he enjoyed seeing it in its destructive glory.

They decided to sit by each other in the dry sand, looking out over the ocean without speaking. It seemed to go on for ever, warping and whirling for miles until it reached the skyline. It really was beautiful.

"Thank you," Freed said quietly, and Gajeel looked down at him with a small frown. "For suggesting things like this. I sometimes wonder if I would do anything if you, and my friends I suppose, didn't push me into doing them."

Gajeel looked down at his boyfriend with a small expression of concern. Freed wasn't closed off as a person, but he didn't often get reflective in this way. He had always seemed to focus on the future instead of the past and seeing him thinking about his life in such a way wasn't something that happened often.

"You would have," Gajeel assured him.

"I'm not sure," Freed smiled, a little cynically. "When I was choosing my university, I had three options. I went to the one on the coast because I loved looking out at the ocean. I imagined going there multiple times a week, just watching the waves. But, after my first semester, I could count the times I even saw the sea on one hand," He sighed, a little downtrodden. "And now I work all the time, and it's my main priority, and I genuinely don't think I'd think of anything else if I didn't have you, Laxus, Bix and Ever."

"Course you would," Gajeel laughed a little. "You're only sayin' this because yer tired. And, well, I think everyone in their mid-twenties thinks that way. We all think we're gonna change the world or live in a sit-com or whatever. Nobody does, and that ain't a failure. It's just- just life, I guess."

"I suppose," Freed didn't sound convinced.

"Freed, yer doin' fine. I don't know what you'd be like if you didn't have any of us, but it doesn't matter. Because you've got us here, and we ain't going anywhere," He patted Freed on the back. "You've just had a stressful couple of weeks, that all."

"Perhaps," Freed nodded a little. He seemed to agree this time, at least.

"Y'know, I'm pretty fond of the coast as well," Gajeel continued, voice a little lighter now. "We could come here more often."

"That'd be nice," Freed agreed, looking over the ocean.

"What about this. We pick a random day each month, and on that day we call in sick and come here just like we did today," Gajeel suggested.

"I'd actually quite like that," Freed smiled.

Gajeel was glad to see the smile and wanted to increase it. At the start of their relationship, Freed had been hesitant to smile at times. He was now more generous, and Gajeel loved seeing it. Because of that, he got an idea on how to make it wider.

"How about, for fun, we make a bet. Since we'll be coming here in the morning, we'll both be tired," Gajeel continued, and Freed nodded. "So, first person to yawn loses. Loser gets dunked in the water."

"Really?" Freed laughed, and Gajeel nodded. "Fine, you've a deal."

"Good," Gajeel grinned. He then stood up, tucked his hands under Freed's legs and hoisted him up. Freed looked at him confused. "You yawned when we got off the bike. It counts."

"You wouldn't," Freed warned, but was grinning.

"I wouldn't get my boyfriend wet, so he has to take his clothes off to let them dry?" Gajeel quirked an eyebrow. "Doesn't sound like me."

He cackled as he ran towards the ocean, Freed laughing, as the sun rose.


	18. Day Eighteen - Ambrosia [Gajeed]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freed hated being sick, and did whatever he could to avoid it. But sometimes it wasn't possible, and he would be forced to endure sickness. But perhaps with Gajeel, and some rather delightful soup, being sick wouldn't be that bad.

**Day Eighteen – Ambrosia (In a Time of Need)**

He should have guessed this would happen, but that didn't make the reality any better.

The day before, on his journey to his dorms from University, Freed had been forced to wait in the rain at the bus stop for nearly an hour. A mixture of poor planning on his part and unfortunate weather had meant he only had his relatively thin coat as protection, and the cold wind and relentless water beating down on him had clearly had an effect on him. The sniffling, sneezing, and coughing was a testament to that.

Freed never got sick, it was a point of pride with him. He had a strong immune system and made sure not to put himself in illness inducing situations when possible. So the fact that he was sick annoyed him, and it also meant he was not at all prepared to look after himself.

Which was unfortunate as, living in university dorms, he was essentially alone.

What was worse was that he had planned to have a date with his boyfriend, which now clearly couldn't happen. Gajeel hadn't complained about the cancellation, and had been sympathetic to what Freed was going through; although he had laughed and called him 'Phlegm Face' after being assured that it was nothing more than a few coughs and a headache. Freed had laughed at that, which made his head spin, which he confessed to Gajeel, who laughed even more. Freed smiled weakly through the teasing, and thanked him when Gajeel said he would come to his dorm when he was finished for the day.

But now he was alone. He had attempted to make himself some breakfast, but the idea of cereal made him gag, anything with sugar would make him vomit, and toast was too sickly with the butter he preferred. He'd settled on a glass of water and a plain cracker. It wasn't a good meal.

He pulled his laptop to his side, opening Netflix and finding a show that wouldn't be too thought provoking to watch. Ideally, he would have spent a day off reading something – he's purchased the first book in a horror series that he had wanted to begin soon – but when he had attempted to read his head had throbbed and the words on the pages melded together into a blurring mess of scribbles. So watching crap television on his laptop was all he was left to do.

The day had been a hazy mess, and he wasn't entirely sure what time it was when there was a soft but firm knocking on his dorm door. He climbed off his bed, a little slower than normal, and opened the door. Gajeel was there, smiling.

"You're dressed?" Gajeel deadpanned.

"You'd prefer me naked?" Freed commented, sniffling.

"Most of the time, yeah," Gajeel chuckled, stepping into Freed's room. "But what I meant was, you're wearing a button up shirt and dress pants, rather than sweats and a t-shirt. Most guys wouldn't wear that normally, let alone when they're sick."

"Most men are weak," Freed commented.

Watching his boyfriend, Freed realised that Gajeel hadn't come in empty handed. He had a plastic bag, and was pulling out small plastic boxes out of it. Freed looked over them with a small frown on his face, not sure what was in them. Gajeel looked over his shoulder, chuckling at the expression on the sick man's face. He was less in control of his features when ill, and was clearly trying to find out what filled the boxes without asking.

"Change into your sweats," Gajeel demanded. "And get in bed, shit-for-brains."

"Traditionally, you're meant to be kind when your boyfriend is sick," Freed mumbled, reaching for his nightwear as he unbuttoned his shirt.

"I brought you soup, didn't I?," Gajeel grinned.

Freed rolled his eyes, the room only shaking slightly as he did so. He smiled a little as he changed into his sleeping attire, much preferring Gajeel maintaining his teasing nature rather than becoming an annoyingly nice version of himself. Part of why Freed disliked being sick – other than the general feeling of crappiness – was the unneeded sympathy it garnered. He didn't somehow become a fragile glass version of himself, and didn't need people to treat him thusly. And if that meant Gajeel called him 'shit-for-brains' then he was fine with that.

After changing and getting into bed, which was a lot more comfortable than he expected, he watched his boyfriend. The man had boiled the kettle Freed kept in his room, and was slowly adding hot water into the plastic box. The smell of chicken stock and vegetable filled the stuffy room.

"Did you bring me chicken soup?" Freed asked, his mind catching up to him. "I wasn't aware people actually did that."

"Most people don't," Gajeel shrugged, stirring the soup as he slowly walked over to Freed. "Most people ain't got the best recipe for chicken soup, though."

"The best recipe? That's quite a claim," Freed chuckled weakly.

He shifted to the side so that Gajeel could climb in beside him. The other man carefully handed him the box of soup, and Freed felt his stomach growl for the first time that day. He slowly brought a spoonful of the soup to his lips, and let out a small hum in appreciation. Although he was biased, as all he had eaten in the day was a cracker and it had just turned seven in the evening – damn, it was later than he thought – but it genuinely did taste incredible.

"Good right?" Gajeel grinned, wrapping an arm around Freed's shoulders. "Dad taught me how to make it. Called it food of the gods."

"Ambrosia," Freed mused aloud, and Gajeel looked down at him with a frown. "It's what the Greeks used to call the food of the gods. Some people claimed that it was responsible for a long life, or even immortality," Freed rested his head against Gajeel's shoulder. "I also think it's a type of custard. I might be wrong about that, though."

"Even when you're sick, you can't help but be a smartass," Gajeel chuckled with a grin.

"I thought you enjoyed my little bits of trivia," Freed smiled, bringing another spoonful of soup into his mouth.

"I guess I do," Gajeel agreed, pulling Freed closer. The warmth radiating off his body was comforting the sick man, and he was glad for it. "I mainly like that your face relaxes when you're talking about the stuff that interests you. Ya always looks kinda wistful, it's cute."

"You think I'm cute now?" Freed laughed, sniffling and trying to hold back a cough.

"Cute as hell," Gajeel grinned, leaning over and pressing his lips against Freed's forehead.

"Thank you for coming," Freed mumbled, smiling softly as he cuddled closer to his boyfriend.

"I'm yer boyfriend, idiot. Course I'm here," Gajeel assured him.

They spent the rest of the night in each other's arms, talking about nothing in particular. Once the food was finished, they cuddled down, Freed wrapped tightly in Gajeel's grasp, with a tired smile. Even though he didn't enjoy being looked after, he could make an exception for Gajeel.


	19. Day Nineteen - Learning [Gajeed]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The early stages of relationships were all bout learning who the other person is. And one day, when Freed gets a flat tire in the middle of nowehere he finds out something about Gajeel. The man loves to gloat.

**Day Nineteen – Learning (By The Roadside)**

Being in a relationship, you're constantly learning about the other person. This was something that Freed had experienced with Gajeel multiple times. He had learned large things, like how he grew up in a care home and was adopted as a teenager. He learned small things, like he had originally shaved his eyebrows for a bet and liked the look. And he had learned things that were only relevant to him, such as how he needed keep far away from Gajeel and his alarm clock as the other man woke up.

Once, he had been between them for some reason, and Gajeel had absentmindedly slammed his fist out to turn it off, only to land a swift blow in Freed's groin. The asshole had laughed over an apology, and Freed had let out a series of cusses.

Today was a day they would both learn something knew about the other. Gajeel would learn that Freed didn't know anything about mechanics, and Freed would learn that Gajeel enjoyed gloating.

It had happened in some country road, where an unavoidable pothole had apparently burst one of the front tires of Freed's car, and he had been forced to stop where he was. The tire was beyond repair, with a large rip that nothing could seal, letting air out. He looked at the deflated rubber with a sigh, clicking his tongue absently as he decided what to do. Because, despite being a relatively practical man, he had never known how to change a tire. He had always lived in cities where potholes weren't an issue, and he didn't drive often, so the issue had never really arisen.

He had either two options. Either call his insurance and ask for help, which would be humiliating for such a prideful man, or call his boyfriend, who happened to be a mechanic.

Gajeel and him had only been dating for a few months, and they were still in what was often referred to as the honeymoon part of the relationship. Freed wasn't entirely sure if he had the right to call him in the middle of the day and ask him to leave his job to help him. But, the idea of being confronted with a tow-truck driver who would almost definitely complain about entitled youth was off-putting, so he had hoped his boyfriend would be amenable and called him.

It took Gajeel about forty minutes to find Freed's car, the revving of the mans motorbike alerting Freed to his presence. Freed had found the spare tire by that time, and had attempted to remove the ruined one without success.

"Hey handsome," Gajeel greeted with a grin, voice cheery. "Heard there was a damsel in distress."

"Call me a damsel again and I'll punch you in the face," Freed said, his tone equally cheerful. His was sarcastic, though.

"I can go if ya want," Gajeel taunted, though climbed off his bike and walked towards Freed's car. He hissed at the tire. "Did you slash the thing? It's fucking wrecked."

"Apparently country people don't fix their roads," Freed muttered, nodding to the pothole. Gajeel winced a little.

"Well, it shouldn't take long to change it," He grinned, pulling out the tools he needed from a small box attached to the back of his bike.

Freed watched the man as he leant down, holding a metal tool of some kind which he assumed would he used to undo the bolts that were keeping the tire in place; something Freed had attempted with a slightly too large wrench he happened to have in the back seat. He made sure to pay attention to what Gajeel was doing, so he could change a tire himself if the situation ever called for it.

On the final bolt, Gajeel attempted to remove it how he had before, but it wouldn't move. He readjusted his position slightly, and Freed saw his muscles bulging slightly more. With the added strength, the bolt began to turn.

"Why's that one tighter, Freed?" Gajeel asked, and the smile was evident in his tone. He knew.

"I had attempted to loosen it myself before you got here," Freed said, reddening slightly.

"You realised where you went wrong then?" Gajeel was grinning now. "If you wanna untighten it, you go anticlockwise. Sorta common knowledge really. Shocked you didn't figure it out."

"Shut up," Freed muttered, looking away.

"Anything else I should know about?" Gajeel grinned, taunting him further. "You didn't try and turn the AC on by setting fire to the engine? Open the trunk by welding it shut?"

"You're very funny," Freed deadpanned. Apparently Gajeel was more perceptive that Freed gave him credit for, as the questioning look he gave him showed that he knew Freed wasn't mentioning something. "I got annoyed and kicked it, if you must know."

Gajeel cackled out a laugh then, and Freed gave him an unimpressed look that only worsened the larger mans laughter. He stood up, wrapped his arms around Freed's waist and pulled him closer. The laughter turned into a quiet mixture of giggling and chuckling as he rested their foreheads together, and Freed seemed to have been calmed by the gesture, leaning in and pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss.

"It's not that funny, you know," Freed commented, and Gajeel smirked.

"It ain't," He agreed. "But you're always so fuckin'… capable, always have an answer and a solution; which I really fucking like about ya. I don't want some needy guy. But, it's kinda nice to know you have a flaw. I used to be, I don't know, kinda intimidated by ya. And the fact your flaw is what I do for a living… it's kinda funny."

Freed shook his head, but smiled. He hadn't known that he had been intimidating to Gajeel – it certainly hadn't been something he wanted to do – but he was glad that the feeling had lessened. Even at the death of his dignity.

"Well, I'm glad you're here and can help me," Freed admitted. "It's nice to know that you'd come if I needed you."

"Always," Gajeel promised.

They shared a short kiss again, and then Gajeel began to change the tire again. It didn't take long, and soon the new tire had been applied. Freed walked towards his car, and Gajeel noticed a small limp in his walk. He smirked, realising what had caused it.

"You hurt your foot when you kicked the car, didn't ya?" He asked, grinning.

"Shut up," Freed muttered, and Gajeel fell into loud and impassioned laughter. Despite himself, Freed joined in.


	20. Day Twenty - Games [Gajeed]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gajeel and Freed have always been competative men, and being a couple has only added to that. And when an improptu snowball fight starts between the two men, it's more obvious than ever just how much is means for them to win a game.

**Day Twenty – Games (In the Snow)**

Both Freed and Gajeel were competitive men, when the mood struck them. Games played together would often get heated as they tried to better the other, and it had become an established rule between their friends not to interrupt them when they were in the middle of playing something. The two men would focus only on winning, and it was best to leave them to their own devices when that was happening.

Anything could bring out their competitive side. Video games and board games were the worst, expect for the one time when they went mini golfing together. They still weren't allowed back.

They made sure never to let their competitive natures interfere with their relationship, though. If things started to get actually heated and arguments seemed as though they would form – rather than the playful teasing that was shared between them both – then they both knew that it was time to either take a break from the game, or end it all together. They both kept true to that rule, and their competitions had never gotten hurtful because of it. which was almost miraculous, given how often they found themselves competing.

Case in point, a competition had formed when they were walking home from work.

It had been snowing throughout the day, heavily so, and there was about three inches of it resting on the ground. The two men made their usual cut through the park to get to their shared apartment. Gajeel had been forced to stop to retie his shoelace, and saw an opportunity. When on his knee, he had packed a handful of snow into a ball and prepared himself.

The second he was standing, he threw the snowball directly at his boyfriend. It hit his face, spreading across his cheeks and nose and clinging to his skin. Freed seemed dumbstruck for a moment, and Gajeel grinned watching him trying to process what had just happened to him.

"You little bastard," Freed eventually said, and Gajeel grinned.

And thus, a new game had begun.

Freed had formed a snowball of his own within a moment, and threw it back at Gajeel's retreating figure, hitting the back of his head. Gajeel simply laughed, got to his knees to make another snowball, and threw it towards his boyfriend.

Neither man could be sure of how long the snowball fight had lasted. It had been intense, with the previously untouched snow being lifted, pressed into a ball and thrown at each other with vicious accuracy and strength. Both men were laughing throughout the entire situation though, quipping at each other and taunting the other to admit defeat at even the slightest sign of them faltering. After their respective long days at work, it had been exactly what they both needed.

When the fight ended, they were both covered in the snow, their clothes dripping wet from the melting water. They were both starting to get tired, but neither wanted to give up. That was when Gajeel had an idea.

He picked up a large clump of snow, larger than any snowball should be, and grinned. There was a large amount of distance between Gajeel and Freed, and Gajeel needed to be right next to his boyfriend to make his plan work. He ran towards him, using trees as cover when possible, and sometimes taking an oncoming snowball head on. He was grinning, knowing that he would soon have his revenge if this worked.

Freed didn't know what Gajeel was planning until it was too late. He had been pushed back against the wall of a building, and now Gajeel had essentially trapped him. With one arm blocking Freed's escape, Gajeel pushed their bodies together with a grin. Now that Freed was fully trapped, he could have a little fun.

"Now, what can I do with this?" He mused cockily, hefting the mass of snow in his hand.

"I could easily get out of this, you know," Freed rebutted, ignoring the vague threat.

"Nah, you couldn't," Gajeel dismissed. Freed probably could, but wouldn't. "See, there's a lot of choices, right? I mean, think of all the things I could do," He looked at the clump of snow. "I could shove it in your face. Down the back of your shirt. In yer boxers if I wanted to be mean."

"And you call me a sadist," Freed muttered. Gajeel was enjoying this too much.

"I might do all three," Gajeel continued, revelling in his victory. "Unless of course you wanna give up, and throw yourself on my mercy. Then I'd have ta be kind and let you go, right?"

Freed grunted, and looked around. Neither option was appealing, and he knew there was a way out of the situation somehow. But Gajeel had backed him into a corner, was pushing him against the wall, and had seemingly thought this through. Freed was proud of his strength, but in the awkward position he couldn't use it at all. He really was trapped, with Gajeel's options seemingly the only ones available for him.

One the one hand, the idea of giving up contrasted with his very soul. On the other, the cold numbness was already taking an effect, and Gajeel's threats would make it so much worse. With a bitter sigh, he spoke.

"You win."

"What was that?" Gajeel grinned. "Didn't quite hear ya. Maybe you should say it louder."

"I said you win," Freed snapped, louder this time.

"Maybe drop the attitude," Gajeel cackled at the glare he received. "Why don't you show me some respect. Say: I, Freed Justine, give up and admit my boyfriend Gajeel is the better man by far. And I'm sorry that I even thought about challenging him. Once you do that, I know yer serious."

If it weren't for the cold water dripping down his back, he wouldn't have done anything.

"I, Freed Justine," Freed spoke through gritted teeth. "Give up and admit my boyfriend Gajeel is the better man by far," He was glaring into his boyfriend's gaze poisonously, who just grinned. "And I'm sorry that I even thought about challenging him."

"That weren't so hard, was it?" Gajeel grinned.

Before Freed could say anything, Gajeel dropped the snow to the ground and lifted Freed up over his shoulder. He cackled as he heard Freed splutter, looking towards his boyfriend with an aghast expression on his face. Gajeel grinned wider as he started to walk towards their apartment, as if he wasn't holding his boyfriend as he did so.

"What?" Gajeel grinned at Freed. "I need a prize, right?"


	21. Day Twenty-One - Blame [Fraxus]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had all been Bickslow's fault. He had been the one to get Laxus into this situation, doing chores for an old woman. But, after meeting a lord who seems very comfortable in who he is, maybe he should also thank Bickslow as well as blame him.

**Day Twenty-One – Blame (And Thanks)**

It was all that blasted Bickslows fault.

He had been the one who invited Laxus to his home for a night of drinking and cards. He had been the one who first left the house while alcohol burned in his blood. He was one the who had thought it would be hysterical if the two of them went to Magnolia's richer district to make a fuss while drunk. He had been the one to pick up the first stone and toss it down the street. Bickslow was to blame for all of that.

Unfortunately, Laxus had been the one to fall into someone's front garden. To crash into an ornamental plan pot and shatter the thing. To wake the resident.

The woman who owned the house was nothing short of ferocious, with startlingly pink hair and a broom brandished in her hand which she wielded as a weapon. She yelled into the night, threatening Laxus and claiming he was a vandal. It had been then when Laxus had recognised her, and she had recognised him. She was Porlyusica, Makarov's doctor, who knew him well. He couldn't just run from her like Bickslow had, meaning he had to deal with the consequences of his drunkenness.

That was why he was there at eight in the sodding morning, cleaning her pathway with a rag and a bucket of water.

It was humiliating. Laxus had always seen himself as a man among boys, both in stature and personality. He had worked from childhood to provide, earning his keep and making himself into a grandson to be proud of. And now he was on his knees, scrubbing a damn patio as some form of weird public revenge. Furthermore, he would be doing so for the foreseeable future. His supposed punishment was that he would do any chores the old witch wanted for the next month; something his own damn grandfather had suggested.

He was going to kill Bickslow when he next saw him. The bastard was probably without any form of punishment, despite being the instigator of it all. He'd get a black eye for his troubles when Laxus next saw him, he was without doubt of that.

But for now, he needed to grit his teeth and bare it.

As he scrubbed against the patio tiles, he grunted. He hadn't previously considered how difficult it would be to get dried bird droppings out of stone, but it was now becoming the only thing he could think of. He was too engrossed in his task to notice the sound of a carriage pulling to a stop behind him.

Only when a short cough could be heard from behind him was Laxus alerted to the presence of another man. He turned to see someone who was undoubtedly noble, if the creed of his clothing was telling. He stood tall and firm, with long green hair and an expression that was a mixture of amusement and elitism. The slight quirk in his eyebrow showed a small sense of superiority, and Laxus was conflicted.

This was both the type of man he wanted to punch, and to push against a wall and kiss.

Of course, he shook off the idea as soon as it came to him. His… urges were something that were nothing but trick of the mind. It was simply that he had never laid with a woman and the urges of being a man were getting too overwhelming, leading him to be rather desperate.

The lie wasn't convincing, not even to Laxus, but it was all he held onto. Because he couldn't desire men in the same way he was meant to desire women.

"Sorry, sir," He mumbled, standing up to move out of the man's way.

"I wasn't aware Miss Porlyusica hired a house boy," The man commented, voice smooth and calm.

"I ain't exactly a house boy, sir," Laxus corrected, wincing. Was the man high enough in nobility that he shouldn't have spoken.

"So you just enjoy cleaning old ladies' homes? Rather an off pastime, I'd insist on getting paid if I were you," The man chuckled, seemingly amused.

"Well, erm, y'see I caused a bit of damage to her property and doing jobs around the house for her is how she's making me pay her back. I ain't got enough actual money to fix what was broken so, this was what she wanted," Laxus explained.

He didn't know why he was speaking. This man, whomever he was, could easily have walked past him, tutted at him and looked at him like he was a piece of dirt. Porlyusica had many visitors already that had done the same, so perhaps it was the fact that this lord seemed willing to say anything that made Laxus suddenly willing to speak. Or perhaps it was the way his face took on a slightly arrogant, but not entirely unkind expression when he grinned.

But it wasn't that. It couldn't be that. Laxus had made a damn good effort to put thoughts of the sort to the back of his mind. Some lord with a slight slither of generosity wouldn't change that.

"And how long will this agreement take place, might I ask?"

"Till the end of the month, sir," Laxus continued.

"Then we'll be seeing rather a lot of each other, I suppose," The man mused aloud. "I pick up my fathers medicine each day, you see. Rather a pain, actually."

"Oh, I'm sorry sir," Laxus looked down. "About your pa, I mean."

"Don't be, he could be dying today, and I doubt I'd grieve," The lord said bluntly, and Laxus furrowed his eyebrows. "He's a horrid old man, set in his ways. The only reason I'm here rather than a servant is because he's trying to prove a point of some kind. He wishes to scare me away from independence by making me do a singular errand each day. To keep me in his pocket, I assume."

Laxus didn't say anything at that. He had never been privy to men of a higher statue, other than walking past them in the street, and didn't know if such honest evaluations of one's father and his intentions were normal for rich men.

"It won't work, of course. I'll be out of his house the moment I can," The man continued. "But he seems insistent. You take a man to bed from time to time and suddenly your father acts as though you're his property. Its laughable."

Laxus averted his eyes at that, now truly speechless. Take a man to bed? There was no double meaning that was any more innocent than what it seemed, and the man had said it so carelessly. Some men would call the authorities immediately if they heard that, others would deem the lord a target for a beating. Was the man so confident of himself that he cared not about the repercussions. Maybe having enough money gave him such confidence.

Laxus wondered what it would be like to be so fearless about that. He wondered what it would be like living in privilege. He wondered why the man had let his preferences in partners known to Laxus of all people.

"I should get inside. The old woman can be testy when it comes to timekeeping," The man smiled. "Good day."

"G'day sir," Laxus nodded.

"Oh please, call me Freed," The man, Freed, requested. "I greatly look forward to seeing more of you, sir."

He tipped his hat, and walked into the building. Laxus looked on at him with wide eyes, surely he hadn't just been the recipient of flirting. Not so brazenly, and with a man below his station. That was impossible.

But, despite that, Laxus felt he should thank Bickslow, as well as blame him.


	22. Day Twenty-Two - Temporary [Fraxus]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving in with his lover was always meant to be a temporary situation, while Freed's house was fixed of flood damage. But waking up next to Freed each morning had become addictive, and Laxus wasn't ready to lose it yet.

**Day Twenty-Two – Temporary (For Now)**

The situation wasn't meant to last this long.

Freed's house had been positioned awkwardly beside the Thames river, and because of that was occasionally at risk of flooding. It hadnt been a problem until the previous springtime, where the rain was seemingly endless. The river banks had been breached, the streets had been flooded, and Freed's house had been damaged to the point where it was no longer liveable. Until it was rehabilitated, Freed had needed to find somewhere temporary to live.

That was where Laxus had come into play. He had inherited a house of his grandfather that had two separate bedrooms, one that had been unoccupied. He had offered Freed the spare room to rent for a short while until his own home was back to a liveable standard.

At least that was the story people had been told.

It was almost entirely true. Freed's house had been damaged beyond the point of it being possible for him to live there. Laxus did have a spare room which he wanted to rent out. The lie came in the fact that Freed, rather than using the spare room he was paying for, he rather occupied Laxus' own bed, alongside the man. That was the part of the arrangement that neither man wanted people to know.

The two mee had met just under a year prior, at a bar that catered mainly to men of their preferences. They had drunk together, talked together, and advanced their relationship to something more physical. Therefore the decision to have Freed move into Laxus' home was the logical decision to take.

It made enough sense as a story, that two platonic men would move in with one another. Freed was a journalist and Laxus a private investigator, so a friendship wasn't impossible. To everyone else, it seemed like one friend was helping out another.

And they were. Just with the added benefits of something akin to matrimony.

But lately, Laxus had heard that Freed's house had been getting closer to a liveable state. He knew that this was meant to be temporary, and that he shouldn't have gotten used to waking up with his lover wrapped around him, but he had. He had gotten used to it almost immediately, and he wasn't anywhere near ready to give it up.

"Freed," Laxus said as they ate their supper. "I've a suggestion to make."

"Of course," Freed nodded. "Go on."

"Well, I mean, you living here had been… well, I never expected something like this to happen. And I'm not sure if I'm ready for it to end. I was wondering what you would think if we considered the possibility of us staying here, the both of us."

"You wish for me to live with you permanently?" Freed asked.

Laxus nodded, feeling a little nauseous now he had spoken. He had never been in a relationship – men were his only interest, and it wasn't likely for him to find someone who shared that – so he had never been in a situation like this. Making this more of a permanent arrangement was something he wanted, but was it appropriate for him to ask his lover the same. Did Freed even see this as a relationship, or was it just a convenient way for him to get to bed.

That thought left a further sick feeling in his stomach. He had been told that men couldn't have relationships with other men, and perhaps that was true. Maybe Freed just wanted a warm bed with a willing man inside of it, not anything emotional.

"It's interesting you've mentioned that," Freed continued. "I did think about the same thing myself, though I hadnt said anything as I didn't want to intrude on your home."

"Honestly?" Laxus asked, hope now fluttering inside of him. "You'd wanna live here."

"If you'd have me, of course," Freed said, smiling softly.

The look on his face was a small thing, but it made Laxus feel utterly stupid for thinking that Freed wanted something without emotions. Because the two of them weren't just bedmates, they were something closer. They shared interests, had talks about their lives, and cared for each other deeply. Thinking otherwise had been a moment of madness.

"Of course I'd have you," Laxus grinned, heart beating fast in his chest. "I mean, I don't know the logistics of it. People might start askin' questions-"

"We could just say that you needed the money of an occupant, and I couldn't continue to maintain a household by myself, and this seemed like the obvious thing to do," Freed smiled, before admitting sheepishly. "I may have been thinking about this for a few weeks."

Laxus grinned further, looking around. The curtains for their kitchen – it was their kitchen now, not just his – had been drawn tightly meaning nobody would have any chance of looking inside them. He reached across the table, took Freed by the cravat, and pressed their lips together.

The kiss was intense and passionate as a kiss can be when both men were reaching over a table, and Laxus smiled throughout all of it. After realising his preferences for men as a teenager, he had resigned himself for either a life alone or with a woman he couldn't truly love in the way he wanted. He had thought he would be a lonely man, without real connections, but that wasn't going to happen.

Because he had a man he loved, a man who loved him. And that man was going to live with him; this would be the house he shared with him. They were going to be as close to married as two man could get, and the feeling set fireworks inside of his stomach. As did the kiss. Freed's kisses always had such an effect on him.

"So," Freed chuckled. "If that's an indication of the future, I suppose living with you has its perks."

"Oh," Laxus grinned, heart thudding. "You have no damned idea."


	23. Day Twenty-Three - Queen [Fraxus]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laxus had already been dreading the visitation of the royal family’s representative before he had met the arrogant Rufus Lore. But, when facing the and self importance, Laxus realises he can expect the Justine Family’s eldest son to take his side.

**Day Twenty-Three – Queen (And Her Staff)**

For perhaps the first time in his career, Laxus was scared of his job.

Being head butler for the Justine Estate was a relatively simple job. His main duty was to make sure the rest of the staff were performing their jobs as well as they could, while also maintaining the luxury of a manor house as best he could. He awoke the family at their chosen times, delivered them their food, and did what was asked of him. It was a damn simple job, helped by the fact the family seemed lacking the complete arrogance and eccentricities of their ilk.

Other than the oldest son. But he was Laxus' lover, so the butler could look past that.

But today was different. Because, despite being a modest family in their actions, they were influential members of Fiore. They owned vast amounts of lands, and the father of the family was in line to be king. Admittedly, it was unlikely, given twenty-seven people needed to die for that to happen, but it did mean he was important.

And that level of importance had led to them getting a royal visit. The Queen was soon to visit for an afternoon, and that apparently required a large amount of planning. Today, the Queen's personal staff were coming to make sure the house was good enough for her majesty to visit, and that the staff were trained well enough. Given his position as the head butler of the household, if anything was seen as lacking, it was to be his fault.

He was less than pleased about that.

Despite his nerves, he went about his regular day. He woke the family up – ignoring the smirk that damned intolerable Freed gave him when Laxus discovered he had slept without his nightshirt; he was still blushing as he left the room – and then walked to the kitchen to specify the family's desires for breakfast that day. Overall, it was going well.

Until of course the royal representatives came. It was an overly exaggerated affair, with each member of the family and all of the staff required to greet them. Even the coach they arrived on seemed to pronounce how superior they felt.

After introductions, they were to be shown a tour of the house. Laxus had been forced to give it.

There was a lot of what Laxus considered to bit nit-picking. Anything so much as a slight crease in the sheets of a bed was exaggerated to the point where Laxus felt he was being accused of treason. The main perpetrator of the unneeded criticism was the castle's head butler: Rufus Lore. A pretentious and arrogant man with long blonde hair, a sneering expression, and a face that Laxus could only describe as incredibly punchable.

But all he could do was stand there and allow himself to be chastised, as he was representing the Justine household. He cared greatly for his employers, and knew that this visit needed to go well. So he would just take the criticism on board, and absently fantasise about drowning the smug bastard in the lake.

He had fully planned to keep himself calm, had the events of the kitchen not happened.

Part way through explaining what they could cook for her royal highness's visit, one of the kitchen staff had dropped an empty plate. It was Rufus' fault, given that he was standing right in front of the oven – which was being used – and the staff had to attempt to work around him as he out-right refused to move away.

"That level of incompetence wouldn't be allowed if you were part of our staff," Rufus had commented, and Laxus already gritted his teeth at that. "I expect that's the same here."

He wanted them to fire someone who had been working at the house for over twenty years, all because he felt himself too important to move out of the way and let them do their job. That was apparently the breaking point for Laxus.

"You ain't exactly making it easy for them to do anything, are ya?" He muttered, losing the charming tone he normally spoke to while working. The kitchen staff looked at him in shock.

"Excuse me?" Rufus turned to Laxus with an expression that one might wear if someone had called their mother an unsuccessful trollop. "I don't know who you think you are, but I can assure you that any form of disrespect aimed towards any member of the royal party is seen as a great offence to everyone in the country. Now forgive me if I'm wrong, but as a representative of the royal family, I should be shown the same respect that you would show the Queen herself."

He continued to shout, and Laxus found himself clenching his fist by his side. This idiot had to have a damned high opinion of himself if he thought he deserved the same respect as actual royalty.

Unbeknownst to Laxus nor the man who chastised him, Freed Justine had walked into the kitchen. He had heard the yelling from outside the door – particularly the part where his staff had been insulted as laughably incompetent – and that had been enough to get his interest. Because he cared for his staff, and refused to allow them to be demeaned in such a way.

When he saw Laxus, it was clear his lover was losing patience. Freed knew he needed to get involved quickly, as Laxus could lose his job if he acted out against the royal visitor. Luckily, Freed had no such repercussions to contend with.

"Good sir," He said, his sharp authoritative tone cutting through Rufus' yelling. The room looked at him. "Please explain to me why you are yelling at my head butler."

"He claimed-"

"Don't use that tone with me," Freed demanded, voice poisonous. "And you are to refer to be as 'sir' at the very least."

"Well sir," Rufus continued, and Freed knew his irritation was making his manners slip even now. That was what Freed wanted. "Your supposed-"

"Did I say I was finished," Freed demanded walking towards Rufus with a glare. "I am a lord of this state and you will treat me thusly. Just as you may think my staff are a reflection of this household, you are a reflection of her royal highness and her family. And if this is the type of staff she keeps, then I greatly feel sorry for those close to her."

"How dare you speak of her highness in such a way-"

"And how dare you speak to my staff as you did. You are a guest in my home and as such you are expected to follow certain social rules. If you think you have the right to speak to my employees with such vitriol then you will find that you'll be out on your arse faster than you can blink."

Laxus, as well as everyone else in the kitchen, watched Freed with a slight amount of shock. The lord had often shown himself to be the most rebellious of the family, even if it wasn't obvious at first glance. But even still, lambasting a representative of the royal family was something big.

Rufus himself seemed shocked, and was apparently speechless at the fact that a man of Freed's position had said something as uncouth as arse. Laxus almost smiled at that, he'd heard Freed say worse.

"Now, you are going to continue your duties, good sir," Freed spat the title out like an insult. "And you'll be damn respectable to my staff. And if even a single one of them has anything bad to say of you, I will relay it to her majesty herself and see what her opinions of it are. Am I clear?"

"Yes," Rufus muttered, crestfallen and embarrassed. "Sir."

"Good," Freed nodded. "Mirajane, could you show Mr Lore to the dining room, please. I need to speak with Mr Dreyar."

Mirajane nodded and showed Rufus out of the door. Once he was gone, the room deflated and Freed walked to Laxus. He placed a hand softly on Laxus' cheek in a comforting and calming way, and Laxus smiled softly. Most of the staff knew of their relationship, so there was no need for subtlety.

"Take some time to calm down," Freed said softly. "If you wish to spend some time down here to recover, I'll explain to father. That goes for the rest of you, too."

"Thank you sir," Laxus nodded, and Freed removed his hand from his cheek. "And thanks, for sticking up for me."

"What good am I if I can't do that," Freed smiled. "I should go and tell father about what happened, so he's prepared. Good day to you all. And I'm sure I'll see you later, Mr Dreyar."

Laxus grinned as Freed left. It was nice to know that Freed was willing to fight his corner, and Laxus found himself smiling for the rest of the day.


	24. Day Twenty-Four - Air [Fraxus]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The whole situation was overwhelming. Laxus was essentially to be married off so his father's land could be sold. Laxus needed some air and a break, and perhaps the company of the charming Mr Justine to calm his nerves.

**Day Twenty-Four – Air (Of a Late Evening)**

The coolness of the evening air hitting his face was a welcome release, and Laxus leant against the metal railing of the balcony. The room that he had just been in, despite its seemingly endless size, had felt stuffy and suffocating. It was a lot nicer out here in the garden, with a gentle wind hitting his face and no annoying women surrounding him.

To think that one of those women was to be his wife.

Of course nobody would say it, but that was what this whole party was for. Makarov had a large amount of land and, recently, it had been discovered that the land contains a large amount of copper. Nearly every mining company in the local area wanted to buy the land for the mining rights, and the party had been organised for the prospective buyers to meet the Dreyar's in a social situation. Essentially, every mining family had brought their daughters as some kind of bargaining chip, and one of them would be wed to Laxus to affirm the future relationship between their family and the Dreyar's.

Makarov had assured him that wasn't going to happen, but Laxus knew that Ivan had been the one to organise this party. And while Makarov wasn't going to marry off his grandson for business, Ivan would. Laxus just had to accept it. Even if the idea made him feel nauseous.

"Do you smoke?" A voice came from behind Laxus, making him turn around.

It was a man with long green hair, the representative of the Justine family; Freed Justine. He had escorted his sister – who might soon by Laxus' wife – and was the businessman for the family. He was a well put together man of a higher social status, and rather handsome too. He had a small cigar case outstretched, with one in his lips.

"Thanks," Laxus nodded, taking a cigar and a match.

"You looked rather miserable in there, I must say," The man chuckled, leaning against the railing alongside Laxus. "Not the typical reaction for a man with beautiful women fawning over him."

"They ain't exactly what I'm lookin' for in a partner," Laxus mumbled.

The blonde looked over the large land owned by his father, an expansive garden of beautiful grass and well-formed flower beds. He had been purposely vague about what he was looking for, as being honest about such things could often end up with one in trouble. No matter how beautiful a woman was, nor how thrilling their personality may be, that wouldn't be what Laxus was looking for. Certainly not the type of women that had come to this party.

Ironically, the only person who had piqued his interest was now standing beside him.

"I thought as much," The man smiled, and Laxus felt frozen under his gaze. "This must be rather horrid for you, then. If you don't have any interest in these women."

"I can deal with it," Laxus muttered.

"You probably can. It's a shame that you have to, though," Freed had a charming look on his face as he gazed over Laxus. "Rather a waste, you could say."

Laxus shot his eyes forward, reddening slightly and feeling almost pinned by the charming smile of the gentleman beside him. Freed really was a handsome man, and there was a slight air of contained mischief behind his smile. Laxus didn't know how he would have reacted if he maintained eye contact with a man who could make such an expression.

"If it eases your troubles, it wouldn't be a necessity for you to marry my sister, if you were to go into business with my family," Freed continued, smiling.

"Why'd she come, then?"

"Your father seemed to think it was a requirement, and my father wished to cover all bases," Freed explained. "But in all honesty, all we need is an assurance that our relationship will be," Laxus felt Freed's arm rest softy against his. "Close."

"Oh," Laxus said, reddening further.

He was almost definitely misunderstanding what was happening. The charming smile and the piercing eyes were just the eyes of someone who knew to get what he wanted, and the light presence of the man's strong body against his own wasn't anything but an accident. There was no way that the man was flirting with him. Even if the eldest Justine son was known for being a rather eccentric and non-conforming man.

But maybe he was flirting. It wasn't completely impossible. The richer the man, the less fear he held about being prosecuted. Perhaps Mr Justine was so confident in himself that he was open about his… persuasion. Laxus just needed to see further.

Maybe to indulge himself, too. He deserved it, after the night he was having.

"How would you say we make sure our family's bond is close?" Laxus asked, avoiding the man's eyes.

"Many different ways. Anything from a well-crafted contract to keep us both in line, to something more…" He thought for a moment, and Laxus could feel the man's eyes on him. "Liberal."

"Liberal?" Laxus echoed. "Sounds interesting."

"I thought you'd say that," Freed chuckled. "Perhaps you and I should thrash it out at some time. If you're willing to, of course."

Laxus' eyes widened, there was no chance of the phrasing being accidental. Nobody referred to a business meeting as 'thrashing it out' without the double meaning of it being intentional. Apparently Laxus' suggestion that he would be interested in something liberal had meant that Freed no longer seemed to be subtle. Laxus was glad for the bracing wind that would cool his heating skin.

If he hadn't needed some air before, he did now.

"I'll do what I can," Laxus said, stumbling over his words slightly.

"I'm glad to hear it. I should leave you now, give you some time to think. I understand that you don't want to go into something this large without thinking," Freed patted Laxus' shoulder, and it sent shivers down his spine. "I should make it known that I don't mix business with pleasure."

Ridiculously, it felt like a punch to the gut. Had he been taken for a fool?

"Luckily," Freed continued, amusement on his face when he saw Laxus' reaction. "I don't have much to do with my family's business. So I expect I can focus on the pleasure. Good day, sir."

Freed walked back inside, and Laxus was left with no doubt as to what Freed wanted. Nor with what he wanted with Freed, if he was honest.

Thank god he had come out for air.


	25. Day Twenty-Five - Leaving [Fraxus]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makarov shouldn't be this emotional about his grandson leaving. He was only moving across town, but it felt like half the world away. But at least he was moving in with Freed, a man who he claimed was his landlord. Makarov knew better.

**Day Twenty-Five – Leaving (For something Better)**

Makarov was probably more emotional than he should have been.

The news his grandson would be moving out hadn't shocked him, but it didn't make it any less a big deal. He'd always lived with his grandson since the boy's mother had passed, and now almost twenty years after that had happened, he was going to lose the man. He scolded himself for thinking like that; the young man was only going to live at the other side of the town, it was hardly another country.

Laxus was currently tying down the rest of his items to a cart, which would be pulled to his new house shortly. Helping him move his items to the cart was Freed, the man who was to be his new landlord.

Well, that was what they told people.

Makarov knew better, though. He had seen the looks that they shared when they thought nobody else was looking. He had noticed how Laxus seemed to both brighten up and relax when Freed walked into a room. He had seen the shared laughter between them when they drunk together in the sitting room. Most people would have thought they were friends, but Makarov knew his grandson better. He knew the effect that Freed had on him.

It had taken some time for Makarov to come to terms with his grandson's fondness for men. Or, just Freed, maybe. He hadn't spoken about it, hadn't gotten a clue on how he could bring it up to Laxus that he knew. But he was happy for his grandson, life was hard enough already; it was nice to share it with someone.

Freed was a good man, from what Makarov could tell. He worked hard for his money, but was caring and kind to Laxus when he could be. The type of man who would care for Laxus, but also challenge him. Perfect, so Makarov thought.

Even knowing that Laxus was going to be happy, it made Makarov a little sad.

"Could I have a talk with you Laxus," Makarov asked, getting the two men to look at him. "In the kitchen, just before you leave."

"Sure," Laxus nodded, before glancing to Freed. "Will it take a long time. You might wanna go on ahead if it does. Don't exactly wanna travel through town through the night with all of this in a cart."

"Oh it won't take long," Makarov waved the idea off. "Just a cup of tea."

Laxus nodded, and the two men walked into the kitchen. The house was small and cramped, smaller than the one Laxus would be moving to, and Makarov smiled a little at the idea. It was nice that his grandson was going to be moving up in the world, even if only by a slight amount.

The story that Laxus and Freed had told people was that Laxus had gotten a new job beside the docks, which was true. The docks were on the other side of town, and Freed's home was right next to it. Freed needed a lodger to make sure he could keep up his payments on the house, the two of them were friends, and Laxus needed to move out of his childhood home eventually. It all made sense, and most of it was true. But, Laxus wouldn't be paying for his own bed, but rather for more convenient access to Freed's.

Makarov couldn't fault that. If he could have moved in with the woman that became his wife before they wed, he would have done so.

"I just want to say," Makarov began, sitting at the kitchen table. "That I really am proud of you, brat. You've grown up to be a good man, and you'll be missed."

"Oh," Laxus mumbled. He always had been awkward around compliments. "Thank you."

"One day, you'll learn to accept a good word said about you," Makarov shook his head. "But what I mean is, I do truly care for you. More than you might think. And I know that you have to move on, but know that you'll always have a seat at the table and a bed upstairs, if you need it," Makarov thought for a moment, before continuing. "Nothing will change that."

"Thanks, Gramps."

Laxus probably hadnt picked up on the meaning, and why would he. For all he and Freed were concerned, nobody knew of the nature of their relationship. Why would he read into Makarov's words and see that he was being invited to come out with his relationship, were he ready.

"But I'm sure that you'll be fine, you're an adult after all," Makarov continued, smiling softly. "From what I've seen, you and Freed get on quite well. I'm sure being his lodger will be good for you both."

Laxus reddened ever so slightly. "I'm looking forward to it," He confessed, before realising he might have said something too obvious. "Won't have to hear you waking up and taking a piss every morning at three."

"I suppose not," Makarov laughed, and they both shared a grin.

Makarov looked at his grandson, and suddenly felt a rush of pride flow through him. He'd turned out damn well, considering everything that the world seemed to throw at him. And now he was moving to live with his lover, a man just as good as he was, and there was nothing, but pride Makarov could feel for that.

Before he could stop himself, the old man reached up and wrapped his arms around Laxus in a sharp hug. He blinked away the tears that came with the sudden rush of emotions, and patted his grandson on the back.

"You make sure he's good to you," He whispered. "You don't take any shit from him, and make sure he treats you well you understand?"

Laxus looked shocked at the man, before smiling softly. "Yeah, I understand."

"Good."

Makarov smiled, patted Laxus on the back and let him go. He'd raised a good man.


	26. Day Twenty-Six - Gamble [Gajeed]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gajeel had taken a lot of gambles to get where he was. Fairy Tail; a bar made for the type of men who sought the company of other men. Already, Gajeel had risked a lot getting there. But maybe taking a gamble on the charming man drinking beside him was a gamble worth making.

**Day Twenty-Six – Gamble (On Yourself)**

Gajeel had taken far too many gambles today.

It had been a gamble to cut through the docking area of Magnolia where many people got mugged, even despite his intimidating style. It had been a gamble to let his workmates know he wouldn't be at home, as that might allow questions to begin as to where he would spend the evening. It had been a gamble to even look towards the establishment that he had just entered. Tonight had been a night filled with gambles.

The building looked… normal. Pretty much like every other bar that Gajeel had patronised in his life. For the unknowing, this might have been just a regular tavern. But The Guild – or more colloquially referred to as Fairy Tail – was no such bar.

It was a bathhouse.

A place for men of Gajeel's persuasion to meet in safety. It was filled with all sorts of peoples, and acted as a safe heaven for them all. Men interested in buggery, those who rejected the gender they were born into, and those who didn't conform to what society wanted of them in some other capacity. It was Gajeel's first time in such a place and, despite knowing that he had more in common with the patrons of this bar than any other he'd been in, he felt incredibly out of place. Like a stranger, looking upon something that he shouldn't have seen.

He slowly approached the bar, unaware if the feeling of being watched was justified or not. He was regretting coming here already; he could have stayed home or drunk at a more common bar. He shouldn't have let Laxus tell him of such a place, or convince him to even think about going there.

Fairy Tail wasn't only a bathhouse. There were rooms available for renting upstairs should two men need them, but it was by no means a requirement. It was just a bar where you could be yourself. Laxus had said Gajeel would enjoy himself.

"Hello sir," A woman behind the bar greeted when he got close. "What can I get for you?"

"Erm," Gajeel mumbled, not wanting to be seen. "What d'ya have."

"Oh we have lots to chose from," The woman smiled, speaking patiently. "Anything any other bars have. Beer, ale, lager, wines, champagne if you're so inclined. And, between you and me, I've been practicing my cocktails and I'm getting rather good at them. So anything you might want, I'm sure we'll be able to accommodate."

"Beer, ma'am," Gajeel requested. The woman nodded, and Gajeel took a seat at the bar.

The woman got to work on pouring Gajeel's drink into a tankard, and the man kept his eyes straight on the bartop. He was just coming here out of curiosity and because he had let Laxus get into his head. Too busy trying to look inconspicuous, he failed to notice the man who had walked into the bar and sat beside him with a considerably greater amount of confidence when compared to Gajeel himself. It was only when he spoke that Gajeel realised he wasn't alone.

"A glass of my regular please Mirajane, my dear," A smooth, refined voice said, and Gajeel glanced to his side.

The man beside him was clearly wealthy, as portrayed by his fancy clothing and clean fingernails. When Gajeel glanced up he saw a head of long, silky green hair and a strong jawline. A gentleman then. Looking up further, Gajeel saw striking eyes and an expression of contentment.

At that moment, he was pretty much everything Gajeel was not.

"Give me a moment Freed," The barmaid, Mirajane, commented as she finished Gajeel's drink. "This gentleman got here first."

"And I don't get preferential treatment for being here so often?"

"Driving away my customers? You're lucky you're not charged extra," Mirajane laughed.

The man, Freed, seemed to enjoy the joke at his expense. It appeared that the contrast of Gajeel's discomfort and Freed's easy and relaxed nature seemed to have been noticed by the richer man, who looked to Gajeel with an expression of quiet intrigue. In response, Gajeel turned down and looked towards the top of the bar again, trying not to allow himself to be pinned by the sharp expression of the man beside him.

He couldn't help but squirm slightly. It wasn't often than he was around men with his fondness for the same sex. Well, there was Laxus, but neither man had interest in the other. But Freed, in his slight nobility and smooth voice, was the type of man that Gajeel enjoyed.

In theory at least, in reality the man looking at him made him squirm.

"I think you could only look more uncomfortable if a crocodile was threatening to bite off your toes," The man said to Gajeel, smiling softly. "First time in a place like this?"

"That obvious?" Gajeel asked, looking back to Freed and cupping the beer he's been given.

"It was either that or you're a copper who drew the short straw, and has to come here undercover and you're scared of anyone getting within a foot of you," Freed laughed at his own joke, and Gajeel let out a single chuckle. "With my experience, the police are much too boring to allow a man like yourself in their ranks."

"What d'you mean by that?" Gajeel asked, slightly offended.

"You have a rough beauty to you, sir. From what I've seen, any individuality is whipped out of you and replaced by a baton and a badge," Freed smiled, and Gajeel found himself speechless at the compliment. He had never once been called beautiful, never expected that to happen either. "Freed Justine, a pleasure to meet you."

"Gajeel," He introduced himself, delighted he didn't stammer over the word. He didn't say his surname; that was a gamble he wasn't going to take.

"Oh," Mirajane interrupted. "You must be Laxus friend, he mentioned that you might come by and I'm to look after you. I should have known."

"He thinks I need looking after?" Gajeel grunted, squaring his shoulders a little.

"No. Those weren't his words," Mirajane was quick to correct him. Out of the corner of his eye, Gajeel could see Freed smiling amusedly at the situation. "It's just he mentioned that you might not be used to places like this, and I know that they can be a little intimidating for new people. He just wanted me to keep an eye on you, make sure it didn't overwhelm you or that someone unknowingly made you uncomfortable."

"Oh," Gajeel mumbled. "Well, you don't need to put yourself to any trouble. I can look after myself."

"And if not, I'm sure I can look after our new friend," Freed smiled, before whispering. "Miss Strauss, though a kind woman, is rather a gossip. Harmlessly so, she enjoys knowing things rather than telling them, but she can be rather vicious when she wants to find something out."

"I can hear you," Mirajane stated, her voice less melodic now.

"Thus proving my point, don't you think," Freed smirked, and Mirajane glared at him. "Attend to your customers, dear, I'll keep him company," He then looked to Gajeel. "If you'll have me, of course."

Gajeel reddened slightly. "Ain't got any objections."

After that, Mirajane decided to leave them alone, and the two men began to speak. Gajeel didn't know if it was purposeful, but the conversation never once approached the reason why Gajeel was there. No speak of relationships, identity, or lovers. It started off about the best kind of drink – Freed fighting for wine, Gajeel for beer – which then divulged into what both men did for a living. Then, they just talked about nothing.

And it was good. Gajeel had never really had a conversation in a bar before. Men didn't speak in the bars he usually went to. Men drank, smoke, and sometimes made hopeless advancements on women. This was rather an improvement.

Freed was pretty good company, too. He was interesting, and perhaps the most handsome man Gajeel had laid eyes on. Rather destructively, Gajeel had a fondness for men above his station. Freed was that, most definitely. Refined, well spoken, obviously wealthy too if he was as successful in his career in law as he stated.

"Tell me, Gajeel," Freed said suddenly, finishing his wine. "Have you ever kissed a man before?"

"Erm," Gajeel blanked. The topic had come from nowhere. "Guess not."

"Shame," Freed smiled pleasantly. Seductively? Maybe Gajeel was thinking too deeply about the conversation though. "Would you like to?"

"E-excuse me?" Gajeel stammered. People weren't so forward, particularly when they were speaking about committing a crime. An unfair crime, but a crime none the less.

"Would you like me to kiss you," Freed grinned a little. "You're my type, and I think I might be yours. And I'm rather good at it."

"I mean… is that-" Gajeel was suddenly overwhelmed by the situation.

He hadn't come here to meet a man, or act on his impulses. It was just meant to be a place where Gajeel didn't have to look over his shoulder, and to perhaps drink with men with the same fondness that he had. A safe space, essentially. He hadn't expected anyone to pay any interest to him, let alone a man that would tick off the boxes of Gajeel's perfect man. He had no idea how to deal with such a situation.

Luckily, Freed did. The man reached over, took Gajeel's chin in his fingers, and engaged him in his first kiss.

And it was euphoria.


	27. Day Twenty-Seven - Balance [Gajeed]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freed had always managed to keep his life well balanced, and he was happy with that. But Gajeel is a threat to that balance, and Freed finds himself wondering if he should let the man close enough to change the structure he had made.

**Day Twenty-Seven – Balance (And Adjustments)**

Freed had always managed to keep his life well balanced.

He had put a lot of effort into forging a strong and reliable career that afforded him a more luxurious lifestyle than most. He had a small group of good friends who had allowed him the social interactions he needed, but also understood that sometimes he needed space alone. He had many hobbies that he often kept up with, be that reading, translations of old languages, or the investigation of antiques. These three aspects of his life were all he had needed, and he'd made sure to give them all the time they required.

With this balance, Freed had been happy. There hadn't been anything obviously missing in his life, nor was there a sense of melancholy. The life he had created for him had been satisfactory. But, with the inclusion of Gajeel, something more had been added.

And that something was threatening to throw this balance off.

Gajeel was unique in Freed's life, in almost every way. He was of a lower class and rough around the edges, something that Freed enjoyed greatly. He was more open with his opinions, lacking the middle class fear of insulting people. He was also more willing to take risks than Freed often allowed himself to be, the brashness of his personality invading Freed's life in a delightful way. It was as if someone had taken a jaw-droppingly handsome hammer to Freed's existence, with the intention of building up something new in its place.

But would this new thing be better, or worse? It was a question that Freed found himself pondering silently as he walked down the road towards his modestly comfortable home, with Gajeel at his side.

The two men had been on a few dates at this point. Well, they had drunk together and shared a single meal, but it was the closest thing two men could get to dating. So far, Freed had kept his interactions with Gajeel limited to these meetings. He was keeping the man at arm's length, because he didn't know if he could risk Gajeel getting closer to him.

But that night, Freed might have changed his mind.

They'd gone to a bar of Gajeel's choosing, which was considerably rougher than anywhere Freed went. They had done almost what they always did, drinking at a bar in the same way friends would. But when, after both got slightly tipsy, drinks had been placed before them, Gajeel had offered a challenge. He bet Freed a tuppence that he could finish his pint before Freed could.

And in that moment, Gajeel was the most attractive man Freed had ever laid eyes on. With a cocky smirk, challenging Freed to a competition, he was irresistible. He had a slightly crook in his nose, his sharp teeth visible, and his piercings glinting in the candle light. If it were acceptable, Freed would have jumped on him then and there.

But he didn't. Instead, he drank. And then he started to think.

They'd shared a few kisses in the seclusion of a dark alley, but that was it. Again, Freed had stopped it before anything further could happen, and it was all because he didn't want to upset the balance of his life. He had spent a lot of time creating a stable existence for himself, and Gajeel posed a threat to it. And now he had to decide if he was willing to risk it. To allow the balance to be upended and recreated with Gajeel in it.

He had to decide weather to invite him in his home, or leave him at the gate again.

Even thinking about it, his gut supplied the answer. Let him in. Gajeel was everything that Freed could have dreamt of, if he was honest. Fun, competitive, cheeky, creative, heartfelt, honest. And he wasn't just looking to take Freed to some secluded room and bed him, he genuinely seemed like he wanted a relationship. That was rare, and Freed shouldn't throw it away.

"Yer awful quiet suddenly," Gajeel commented. "Still pouting about losing?"

"No," Freed laughed. "And I still maintain you distracted me on purpose," Gajeel cackled at that. "Running your thigh against mine is a rather nasty trick."

"Doesn't mean ya don't have ta pay up, does it?" Gajeel smirked.

"I could drink you under the table with a higher quality wine," Freed rebutted, faux glaring while he tried to supress a laugh. This was something Gajeel had already done to him, allowed a more juvenile delight enter his every day life. That was definitely something that Freed wasn't ready to get rid of.

"You wanna take me to some fancy bar and prove it, fine by me," Gajeel crossed his arms, and Freed could see his arms flexing under the fabric of his clothes. "But yer paying."

"You certainly know how to get a drink out of me," Freed commented sardonically.

Gajeel laughed, and pat him on the shoulder with a little amount of strength. That was something that he did often, and Freed had concluded that it was his alternative to a romantic gesture. They couldn't very well hold hand in the middle of the street, after all, so a masculine pat on the back would have to do. When the thought struck him, Freed had to wonder what Gajeel's hands would feel like. Callous and rough no doubt. Rather delightful sounding.

It was then that Freed realised just how ridiculous was being.

He was thinking about what the other man's hands would feel like in his own. He couldn't pretend that this was platonic, nor could be delude himself into thinking this was two men who would eventually use each other for satisfaction.

He wasn't just attracted to Gajeel sexually. There was a romantic feeling too.

Worst still, Freed realised just how patient the other man was being with him. Freed had been the one to instigate the whole damn thing, and at first he had held off getting too far with him because Gajeel was inexperienced. But they weren't just strangers at a bar anymore, they were friends. They were comfortable around each other, and if the suggestive comments Gajeel had started to make were reflective of how he felt, Gajeel was willing to become lovers. And so was Freed, so why the hell was he putting things off?

To keep some sort of balance. What was the point in that? He wasn't keeping himself safe, he was allowing himself to stagnate. If he didn't take a step forward with Gajeel, then he never would. And his comfortable, balanced life would be all he had. And, right now, he wanted a bit of adventure.

"Taking you to a bar seems counter-intuitive," Freed continued, a sudden rush of adrenaline pushing him forward. "I've rather a well-stocked liquor cabinet right here. I can prove my point to you now, if you'd like."

Gajeel faltered a little, looking towards Freed's house as they stopped at the gate before it. He had walked Freed home after each of their dates, as the street was part of his walk home, but had never been invited in before. He glanced at the building, then at Freed, and grinned.

"You wanna be humiliated in yer own home, that's your choice," Gajeel grinned.

Then, as if it were natural, Freed found himself opening the gate to his home and walking down the path. Gajeel followed him, and an electric drumming of anticipation and excitement flowed through him. As he put the key in the lock, he wondered why he had taken so long to let this happen.

And once the door was closed, and Gajeel was pushing him against a wall with his lips, any thoughts of balance left him completely.


	28. Day Twenty-Eight - Thirst [Gajeed]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freed was just thirsty, that was all. The fact that he was forced to spend an entire afternoon with his lover looking so damn tempting in formalwear that it was unbearable had nothing to do with it. He was just thirsty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note, this one has sexual undertones. There's nothign explicit other than some kissing, but you might want to miss it if that's not your sort of thing.

**Day Twenty-Eight – Thirst (Of A Nobleman)**

Anybody else would just think that Freed had been particularly thirsty. Nobody would have even noticed just how much Freed had been drinking throughout the day, and if they actually had, they would've just assumed that he needed a drink. There was no chance of anyone realising the actual reason that Freed had been continually drinking flute after flute of champagne throughout the afternoon.

Freed also hoped that Gajeel didn't know the reason for his apparent thirst. He would be intolerably smug when he realised it was because of him.

Weeks prior, Freed had been invited to attend a party at a nearby manor house owned by the Dreyar family. Being close with the son of the family, Freed had also gotten Gajeel an invitation. His lover would be there under the guise of a possible business partner that Freed needed to impress. Only the Dreyar's themselves knew that Gajeel was Freed's lover, so the excuse was needed.

And with such an excuse, Gajeel needed a change of clothes.

The man, being an ironmonger, didn't have many luxurious pieces of clothing, and had needed to go to the tailors so the lie of him being a businessman could be believable. Freed had through nothing of it as he'd sent the man to his tailor, expecting him to come back in something more similar to what Freed often worn. He had thought that Gajeel would have some clothes of a nicer fabric and more modern stylings, and that was it.

He hadn't expected the outfit to be so… flattering.

Of course, flattering wasn't the word that came to mind when he first saw Gajeel wearing it. Freed's immediate impressions were that it was gorgeous, gentlemanly, and, importantly, tight. Tight enough to encourage a rush of blood to swell Freed's groin.

And throughout the afternoon, Gajeel had been wearing the outfit. It was a test of patience for Freed rivalling torture, and the man believed he deserved a damn medal for not insisting they find an unused room in the house and buggering the man against the wall like a pair of animals. The urge had been there throughout the entire day, and Freed had only managed to keep his hands off his lover by busying them with something else.

Namely, drinking.

It had been a hellishly difficult task. The formal clothes had been measured to fit snugly around Gajeel, highlight his strong physique. His biceps bulged in his sleeves, his chest was pronounced in his shirt and coat, and his riding trousers had been so damn tight Freed could see the musculature that made up his thigs through them. Freed would have to have a word with his tailor, perhaps docking him some pay for making his balls blue.

What was worse, Gajeel himself had taken to the outfit perfectly. Well, in a sense. He didn't play the part of an aristocrat, but as someone who had fallen into money but stuck to his workman roots. The juxtaposition of the man's luxury against his rough and common personality had an effect on Freed he couldn't quantify.

Forget a medal. Freed deserved compensation for being so patient.

And Gajeel had more torture for Freed yet. Once the party was over, and they had returned to Freed's home, Gajeel had delivered a final blow. He shucked off his jacket and undid the top two buttons of his shirt. Now a tantalising vision of his hair covered chest was peeking out, and Freed felt his sanity slipping away.

"Scoundrel," Freed muttered to himself, not expecting Gajeel to hear.

"What?" Gajeel asked, and Freed looked up to see he was grinning.

Freed's breath caught in his lungs. Gajeel was sitting in the armchair that Freed often read at, lounging over the leather with the smuggest expression on his face. His legs were spread wide, and Freed was given clear clarification that Gajeel hadn't worn a codpiece. His arms were bulging in his sleeves and, finally, Freed realised that the bastard knew what effect he had on his lover, and had been making it worse.

"I called you a scoundrel," Freed said again, glaring. Gajeel grinned. "You… you bloody well did all of that on purpose, didn't you?"

"Don't know what you mean," Gajeel grinned. He didn't even try to be convincing. "I just asked for my clothes to be tight cause I like the feeling."

"You… you-" The words wouldn't come to Freed. Gajeel sauntered over to his lover, smirking.

"I thought this party was gonna be full of stuffy asshats, I needed to have a little fun," He grinned, standing over Freed. He leant down, took the glaring man's chin in his fingers and leant closer. "I've never seen a nobleman so thirsty before. The sun must have been getting to ya. Only thing that makes sense, given how hot and sweaty you were lookin'."

"You will regret doing this," Freed muttered, eyes hard. The looming presence of his gorgeous lover above him was starting to take an effect, however. "I will make damn sure of that."

"I'm scared," Gajeel chuckled. "If it makes ya any less angry, I wanted ta jump on ya just as much."

Before Freed could say anything, Gajeel leant down and brought their lips together in a heated and passionate kiss. Freed returned it within an instant, running a hand over Gajeel's strong arms and feeling the muscles flexing over the fabric. He grabbed the collar of the man's shirt and tugged on it sharply, making the man collapse into his lap. The kiss continued as he did so.

"I very much doubt it," Freed snapped against Gajeel's lips.

Gajeel cackled, pressing himself further against Freed as they kissed against the chair. When he felt Freed's hands roaming under his shirt, unbuttoning it without elegance nor patience, he grinned into the kiss. Freed pinched his skin in retort, and Gajeel laughed. He would have to make his nobleman 'thirsty' more often, it seemed.


	29. Day Twenty-Nine - Quarrel [Gajeed]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gajeel had lived on the streets before, and he coudl do it again. After a fight with Freed, it seemed like the only choice he had, as living with the man probbaly wasn't an option anymore. So why had Freed come to find him?

**Day Twenty-Nine – Quarrel (And The Aftermath)**

Gajeel had been homeless before, he could do it again.

It wasn't an ideal situation, but he would get by. Just because he had got used to the luxury of living in Freed's cosy household didn't mean his street smarts had been removed. He had spent just shy of a year on the streets, and he'd made it through well enough, he just had to do it again. It wouldn't be anywhere near as comfortable as his life had been with Freed, but that was okay. He could tough it out until his situation got better.

He'd already found a good spot; under a canal bridge, close to an inn that Gajeel knew from experience would hand out scraps of uneaten food. And he had a trunk of clothing to keep him warm, which was better than what he'd had before. The trunk wasn't his, but Freed probably wouldn't miss it.

Freed. Gajeel felt a little sick when he thought of the man.

They had engaged in an argument in the morning. It was initiated by the most ridiculous of things; Freed had thrown a piece of fruit away that was bordering on rotten. Gajeel claimed it was a waste, Freed said that he wasn't going to eat spoiled food when it wasn't necessary. Somehow, this had devolved into a petty but nasty argument between them both about Freed's middle class upbringing and the contrast against Gajeel's own childhood. It had reached it's nastiest when Gajeel had claimed that Freed was a spoiled bastard without a grasp on reality.

The argument had been left there, as Freed had stormed out to go to work. Gajeel had festered in his anger for a while, before he realised what this argument had meant. He had been living in Freed's home for months, and the man was his landlord. It was unlikely that he would be allowed to remain after their fight.

So he had packed a trunk of his clothes and his items that he could sell, and left.

It was a bad day to do it, as well. The rain was heavy, and the dark clouds made Gajeel think that thunder and perhaps even lightning was coming. But he wrapped himself up in the large coat Freed had gotten him for his birthday, trying to ignore the irony that he was taking comfort in something of Freed's despite the fact he had left the mans home.

The more he thought about their argument, the queasier it made him feel. They had grown up in different ways, but that didn't mean Freed was a bad person. He was a criminal lawyer; he knew the struggles people went through better than most. Gajeel had just been angry – and perhaps embarrassed – that he hadn't been afforded the same luxuries that others had. But Freed wasn't to blame, and he had never been patronising about the difference in their lifestyles.

"Shit," Gajeel sighed, fingers tapping against the battered leather of the trunk he was sitting on. "Really fucked that up, didn't ya."

But it was too late now. Freed was a prideful man and – while Gajeel enjoyed that side of his personality – it was unlikely he would sit back after being insulted. Gajeel should have just kept his insecurities to himself. His stupid pride had lost him his home and his lover.

Leaning against the wall of the bridge, he allowed his eyes to close and was consumed by sleep.

He didn't know how long he had slept for, but when he felt a shaking on his shoulder and woke up again, it was now late enough for the stars to be out. He blinked groggily to see who had woken him, and saw that it was Freed, looking at him with a face of concern.

"How the hell d'you find me?" Gajeel asked, voice croaking.

"I spoke to Laxus, he told me of a few placed you could be, one being here," Freed explained. "Why aren't you at home, Gajeel?"

"Assumed you didn't want me there," Gajeel shrugged; it was obvious, he thought. "Guys don't normally like it when their shagging partner insults them. Thought it was best to leave before you came back."

Freed gave Gajeel a look of many emotions. It started off confused, flickered to annoyance for a moment, and then settled on resignation. He shifted slightly, moving so that he could join Gajeel on the trunk he was sitting on, looking out over the canal that was lit by stars. Gajeel frowned at the action, looking at his lover – ex-lover now, most likely – not understanding his actions.

"You're not just the man I sleep with, Gajeel," Freed said softly.

"Sure," Gajeel scoffed.

"I mean it," He spoke more firmly now. "I understand that a relationship like ours isn't the most conventional, but that doesn't mean it's any less valid. I don't want you to just be my lover – just someone who I know who I can take to bed – I want you to be my partner," He smiled at Gajeel, and looked beautiful. "I love you, Gajeel."

"You do?" Gajeel almost froze at the statement.

"Yes. I have never seen us just as people who can settle the others urges. I've seen you as my partner, the man who, if I could, I would marry," Freed admitted, and Gajeel felt a surge of emotions flow through him. Freed spoke again before he could understand them. "And I think you feel the same way. You've just denied it because it makes leaving easier."

At Freed's conclusion, Gajeel realised he was right. They weren't just having fun with each other, they shared emotions and feelings. They had courted and moved into a home together. Gajeel hadnt allowed himself to think of it that way, but of course that was what they had done.

"Shit," Gajeel mumbled. "I-I love you too."

"Quite so," Freed grinned, and Gajeel nudged him. "And, I'm sure you know, people in relationships often argue. It doesn't mean that one of them moves out and make themselves homeless."

"You don't want me gone?" Gajeel asked.

"Of course not," Freed assured him, smiling. "We will have arguments, of course we will. But, as people in love often do, we just need to get past them. Put aside our pride and come to a middle ground," Freed patted him on the thigh. "And I should apologise. I often disregard your childhood and how it has shaped you, and that's not fair. I shouldn't have been dismissive of what you said, and I shouldn't have gotten so defensive when you challenged me."

"No," Gajeel shook his head. "I shouldn't have made such a big deal about a fucking apple. And I called you a lot of nasty things that weren't appropriate."

"Well, some of them were. I was being rather a bastard," Freed chuckled, and Gajeel grinned slightly. "You have a sailor's mouth when you're angry, don't you?"

"Sorry," Gajeel chuckled.

"It's charming," Freed smiled, leaning against his lover with a soft smile. "We probably should have had a conversation like this before I stormed out, shouldn't we?"

"Probably," Gajeel agreed.

"Come home, Gajeel," Freed requested softly, and it made Gajeel feel warm inside.

Freed was his lover, his partner and his friend. This was something that Gajeel had never expected, and something that he held dear to him. They were good together, Gajeel had always known that, but hearing that his feelings were reciprocated was something that he hadn't thought would happen.

But now that it had, he felt damn idiotic for his actions. For leaving, as if it was an appropriate response. No, he and Freed were adults in a relationship, and they could work though their problems. That was a brilliant feeling.

"Okay."


	30. Day Thirty - Accident [Gajeed]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Freed is the victim of a mugging gone wrong, it gives Gajeel some time to think. He doesn't know how long he has left with Freed, and he wants to make the man know just how much he loves him. And how better to do that than with a ring.

**Day Thirty – Accident (And Realisations)**

It turned out it was true. Life really did flash before your eyes in a near death situation.

A mugging, that's what had caused it. Three men had cornered him in an alleyway, he removed his cane from his person and had started to beat him when he hadn't given them his wallet. He had put up a fight for a small amount of time, but the three of them were strong and outnumbered him. They were armed with impromptu weaponry and had thrashed the fight out of him, leaving him to die most likely.

As he had slowly lost consciousness as blood trickled from his wounds, his mind had supplied a stream of images from his life. Leaving for boarding school for the first time, riding a horse without help, his first dalliance with a farm-boy in a barnyard.

Then Gajeel had entered the stream of memories, and had dominated the experience. He remembered the first time they had met, their first kiss, their first night together, the first time Freed had confessed his love for the man. Smaller things to, like the cocky grin he had when he was issuing Freed some kind of wager, or the nights spent in their shared living room, reading or talking by the fire. Small moments of their relationship that Freed found himself adoring on reflection.

He passed out soon after.

Waking up in an unfamiliar room was disconcerting, and the pain flooding his body was vicious and unrepentant. He hissed at the sensation, and tried to distract himself somehow. The strong hands gripping his own were a good way to do that.

When he looked up, he saw a pleasant looking room. He adjusted his eyes at the open window and saw a street lit by the morning son; the street was familiar, but he was in a part of it that he didn't know. After a few moments he realised this was the same road he lived on, but a different house. Most likely, given the pain he was in, Porlyusica's house; a retired nurse that lived about three homes down from Freed.

But none of that was particularly important when compared to the fact that Gajeel was holding his hand.

He didn't seem to notice that Freed was awake, and it gave the injured man time to smile slightly. Gajeel had always been more cautious about being intimate in public than Freed – the lawyer had enough blackmail on London Police that they wouldn't go near him – so to have him openly touch him in a place not their home was a rather nice feeling. The feeling was soured when he realised why Gajeel was doing it; he was probably worried for him.

"Gajeel," Freed said, voice hoarse. It felt as though his throat were sandpaper.

"Freed," The mans head shot up, his voice tired and slightly croaky as well. "Fuck, how long have you been awake. Shit, here," He reached for a glass of water and handed it to Freed.

"Thank you," Freed smiled as he drank.

"You feeling okay. Course yer not," Gajeel cussed at himself. "Can I do anything for ya?"

"I don't think so," Freed shifted slightly as he sat up against the headboard. "Have you been here all night?"

"Couple nights. Would have been here longer but the old witch sent me away," Gajeel glared at a door, but Freed frowned.

"How long have I been unconscious?"

"Six days," Gajeel said quietly, and it was clear to see that the other man had been worrying for the entire time. Freed gently ran his thumb across the palm of Gajeel's hand in a comforting gesture, and his lover tightened his grip. "What happened?"

"I was leaving my office. Some men wanted money; I didn't give it to them. I'm sure you can guess the rest," Freed sighed, looking at the expression of worry on his lover's face. "I'm okay, Gajeel. I'm alive, and I'm sure that the pain is only temporary. You really needn't worry."

"Should have walked you home or something," Gajeel muttered, and Freed sighed.

"You weren't to know," He said comfortingly. "Has it been a long week for you, without my charming company to keep you busy?"

Gajeel laughed, albeit forcefully. Freed leant over and pressed his head against Gajeel's softly, as close to a kiss that they could do in anywhere slightly public. Gajeel nuzzled into the gesture, and Freed expected that the man would join him in the bed and wrap him in his arms if possible. Gajeel had always seemed to enjoy touch, be it holding hands, kissing, or even just pressing his side against Freed's as they sat next to each other. Perhaps it made things feel real for the man; Freed wasn't going to complain whatever the reason.

"Done a lot of thinkin'" Gajeel admitted. "I ain't ready to lose ya."

"I'm not going anywhere," Freed assured him softly, stroking his hand again.

"Better fuckin' not be," Gajeel said firmly, but was smiling, and it warmed Freed's heart just a little. "Because, well, one of the things I was thinking of was…"

Freed frowned a little when he looked at Gajeel. The man may not be the most blessed when it came to words, but that wasn't what was stopping him. He was nervous about something. That was defiantly unlike Gajeel, he was a headstrong man who often thought before he acted; sometimes for better, sometimes for worse. He didn't say anything though, letting Gajeel think before he spoke again.

"Couple months ago, you said you'd marry if you could," Gajeel eventually said. "And, I realised that I'd marry you too. So, well."

He reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a small box, which he flipped open. A simple plain ring rested inside of it, and Freed looked at it with shock as Gajeel shifted so that he was on one knee. Freed forgot the pain his body was in, looking at the piece of jewellery with wide eyes. Gajeel gave him a shockingly hopeful smile.

"I know we can't… I mean legally it won't be…" Gajeel glanced down in annoyance of himself. "I love ya, Freed. And I wanna spend the rest of my life with ya, and I was scared that I would be able to for a while. And I know we can't go it in a church, or get it done legit, but I wanna be yer husband. I wanna get married to ya. So, will you marry me?"

"Yes," Freed grinned. "Oh fuck yes."


End file.
